IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT  3) 


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Sciences 
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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  873-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


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Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notas  tachniqua*  at  bibliographiquas 


Tha  Instituta  has  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bast 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagea  in  tha 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


n 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


ouverturo  endommagie 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur^  et/ou  pelHculAe 

Cover  title  missing/ 

La  titre  de  couverture  manque 


r~~j    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartas  giographiquas  an  couleur 


□    Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
3ncre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bieue  ou  noire) 

I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


D 


D 


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Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couieur 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Rell4  avac  d'autres  documents 


Tig  et  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

I  a  re  Mure  serrie  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
diatorsion  l«  long  d«  la  marg*  intirieure 

Blar.k  leaves  added  during  reatoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  posaibla,  thesa 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 

II  se  peut  que  certainea  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte. 
mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  cas  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t«  filmtes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentairas  supplAmentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  le  meilleur  axemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  it*  possible  de  se  procurer.  Las  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  paut-itre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  q»ji  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  una 
modification  dans  la  mithoda  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 


T 
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I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


Pages  da  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagias 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaurias  et/ou  pelliculies 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxe< 
Pages  dicolories,  tacheties  ou  piquies 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d*tach*«s 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit*  inigala  oe  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprand  du  material  supplimantaire 

Only  adition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


r~~l  Pages  damaged/ 

j      I  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

I      I  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I      I  Pages  detached/ 

rT\  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

r~l  Only  adition  available/ 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc..  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Lea  pages  totalemcnt  ou  partiellement 
obscurdes  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  pelure, 
etc..  ont  *t*  film^es  *  nouveau  da  facon  i 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


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Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous 
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12X 


16X 


lax 

22X 

26X 

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20X 


24X 


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The  copy  filmed  hara  has  baan  raproducad  thank* 
to  tha  ganaro«ity  of: 

Seminary  of  Quebec 
Library 


L'axamplaira  filmt  fut  raproduit  grica  A  la 
gin^rosit*  da: 

SAminaire  de  Quebec 
Bibliothique 


Tha  imagas  eppaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
poasibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  legibility 
of  tna  original  copy  and  In  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  speclficationa. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  llluatrated  imprea- 
sion.  or  tha  back  cover  when  appropriate.  Al!! 
other  original  copies  ara  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  llluatrated  Impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  laat  page  with  a  printed 
or  llluatrated  Impreaaion. 


Tha  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  —»-( meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Lea  Images  sulvantas  ont  AtA  reprodultes  cvec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
de  la  nettetA  de  i'exemplaire  fiimA,  et  en 
conformiti  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fllmage. 

Lea  axemplalraa  orlginaux  dont  ie  couverture  en 
papier  eat  ImprlmAe  sont  flimis  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  smpreinte 
d'impreaaion  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  selon  le  caa.  Tous  lea  autras  axemplalraa 
orlginaux  aont  fllmte  an  commandant  par  la 
preml4re  page  qui  comporte  una  amprainte 
d'impreaaion  ou  d'illustration  at  en  terminant  par 
la  darnlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  dea  aymbolaa  suivanta  apparaltra  sur  la 
darnlire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  salon  ie 
c^a:  la  symbols  •»»>  signifie  "A  SUiVRE ".  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Mapa.  platea.  charta.  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratloa.  Thoae  too  large  to  be 
entirely  Included  in  one  expoaure  ara  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hend  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framea  as 
required.  The  following  diagrama  illustrate  tie 
method: 


Lea  cartea,  planchaa.  tableaux,  ate.  pauvent  Atre 
fllmte  k  dea  taux  de  reduction  dlff*rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  itra 
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de  Tangle  aupAriaur  geuche.  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  baa.  en  prenant  la  nombra 
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;HF  NO!,  ,.,  /,,v,L,K(CAN 
THE   Lr.vjLlSH  COLONIES 
CANADA    ^    ^ 


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PARK  MAN,  Jr. 


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HISTORY  OF  THE     of     ^     ^ 

CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC 


■rrr 


AND  THE  WAR  OF  THE  NORTH  AMERICAN 
TRIBES  AGAINST  THE  ENGLISH  COLONIES 
AFTER  THE  CONQUEST  OF  CANADA    j»    j» 


By  FRANCIS  PARKMAN,  Jr. 
B 

%5\ 


Reprinted  from  the  Original  Edition 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY, 
52-58  DFANE  STREET,  N 


\ 


TO 

PRESIDE^    OF    HARVARD    UNIVERSITY, 

THIS  VOLUME  IS  DEDICATED 

AS  A  TESTIMONIAL  OF  HIOH  PERSONAL  REGARD, 

AND  A  TRIBUTE  OP  RESPECT 

FOR  HIS  DISTINGUISHED  SERVICES 

TO  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


4773 


CONTENTS. 


OHAPTBR 

I.  Introductory.— Indian  Tribes  East"  of  the  Missis- 
sippi   1 

II.  France  and  England  in  America 35 

III.  The  French,  the  English,  and  the  Indians 49 

IV.  Collision  of  the  Rival  Colonies 70 

V.  The  Wilderness  and  its  Tenants  at  the  Close  of  the 

French  War ja- 

VI.  The  English  take  Possession  of  the  Western  Posts.  120 

VII.  Anger  of  the  Indians.— The  Conspiracy 128 

VIII.  Indian  Preparatio   j^j 

IX.  The  Council  at  the  River  Ecorces 143 

X.  Detroit -g- 

XI.  Treachery  of  Pontiac 105 

XII.  Pontiac  at  the  Siege  of  Detroit igQ 

XIII.  Rout  of  Cuyler's  Detachment.— Fate  of  the  Forest 

Garrisons jno 

XrV.  The  Indians  Continue  to  Blockade  Detroit 210 

XV.  The  Fight  at  Bloody  Bridge 223 

XVI.  Michillimackinac 235 

XVII.  The  Massacre 047 

XVIII.  Frontier  Forts  and  Settlements. 269 

XIX.  The  War  on  the  Borders 287 

•  •  • 

Ul 


iv  ^       CONTENTS.  T 

CHAPT.B  p^O, 

XX.  The  Battle  of  Bushy  Run 294 

XXI.  The  Iroquois.— Ambuscade  of  the  Devil's  Hole. ...  808 
XXII.  Desolation  of  the  Frontiers 816 

XXIII.  The  Indians  Raise  the  Siege  of  Detroit 884 

XXIV.  ThePaxtonMen 840 

XXV.  The  Rioters  March  on  Philadelphia 865 

XXVI.  Bradstreet's  Army  on  the  Lakes 870 

XXVII.  Bouquet  Forces  the  Delawares  and  Shawanoes  to 

Sue  for  Peace 897 

XXVIII.  The  Illinois 426 

XXIX.  Pontiao  Rallies  the  Western  Tribes 433 

XXX.  Ruin  of  the  Indian  Cause. 446 

XXXI.  Death  of  Fontiac 462 


...294 

...  808 

...  815 

...884 

...840 

...  865 

...  870 

B  to 

...  897 

...  426 

...  483 

...446 

...  482 

PREFACE. 


The  conquest  of  Canada  was  an  event  of  momentous 
consequence  in  American  history.    It  changed  the  politi- 
cal  aspect  of  the  continent,  prepared  a  way  for  the  inde 
pendence  of  the  British  colonies,  rescued  the  vast  tracts 
of  the  interior  from  the  rule  of  military  despotism,  and 
gave  them,  eventually,  to  the  keeping  of  an  ordered  de- 
mocracy    Yet  to  the  red  natives  oi  the  soil  its  results 
were  wholly  disastrous.     Could  the  French  have  main- 
tamed  their  ground,  the  ruin  of  the  Indian  tribes  might 
long  have  been  postponed ;  but  the  victory  of  Quebec 
was  the  signal  of  their  swift  decline.    Thenceforth  thev 
were  destined  to  melt  and  vanish  before  the  advancing 
waves  of  Anglo-American  power,  which  now  rolled  west 
ward  unchecked  and  unopposed.    They  saw  the  danger 
and,  led  by  a  great  and  daring  champion,  struggled  fierce- 
y  to  avert  it.    The  history  of  that  epoch,  cfowded  as 
It  is  with  scenes  of  tragic  interest,  with  marvels  of  suffer- 
ing  and  vicissitude,  of  heroism  and  endurance,  has  been 
as  yet,  unwritten,  buried  in  the  archives  of  go;ernments' 
or  among  the  obscurer  records  of  private  adventure     Tc! 
rescue  it  from  oblivion  is  the   object  of  the  following 
work.    It  aims  to  portray  the  American  forest  and  the 

^  doom  ^*  *^^  ^^^'"^  "^^^  ^""^^  ^^'^^^^^  *^^^^ 

It  is  evident  that  other  study  than  that  of  the  closet  is 
indispensable  to  success  in  such  an  attempt.  Habits  of 
early  reading  had  greatly  aided  to  prepare  me  for  the 
the  task  J  but  necessary  knowledge  of  a  more  practical 


Ti 


PREFACE. 


kind  has  been  supplied  by  the  indulgence  of  a  strong 
natural  taste,  which,  at  various  intervals,  led  me  to  the 
wild  regions  of  the  north  and  west.  Here,  by  the  camp- 
fire,  or  in  the  canoe,  I  gained  familiar  acquaintance  with 
the  men  and  scenery  of  the  wilderness.  In  1846,  I  visited 
various  primitive  tribes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  was, 
for  a  time,  domesticated  in  a  village  of  the  western  Dah- 
cotah,  on  the  high  plains  between  Mount  Laramie  and  the 
range  of  the  Medicine  Bow. 

The  most  troublesome  part  of  tiie  task  was  the  collec- 
tion of  the  necessary  documents.  These  consisted  of 
letters,  journals,  reports,  and  despatches  scattered  among 
numerous  public  offlses,  and  private  families,  in  Europe 
and  America.  When  I  DUght  together,  they  amounted 
to  about  three  thousand  four  hundred  manuscript  pages. 
Contemporary  nej^^spapers,  magazines,  and  pamphlets 
have  also  been  examined,  and  careful  search  made  for 
every  book  which,  directly  or  indirectly,  might  throw 
light  upon  the  subject.  I  have  visited  the  sites  of  all  the 
principal  events  recorded  in  the  narrative,  and  gathered 
such  local  traditions  as  seemed  worthy  of  confidence. 

I  am  indebted  to  the  liberality  of  Hon.  Lewis  Cass  for 
a  curious  collection  of  papers  relating  to  the  siege  of  De- 
troit by  the  Indians.  Other  important  contributions  have 
been  obtained  from  the  state  paper  offices  of  London  and 
Paris,  from  the  archives  of  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and 
other  states,  and  from  the  manuscript  collections  of  sev- 
eral historical  societies.  The  late  William  L.  Stone,  Esq., 
commenced  an  elaborate  biography  of  Sir  William  John- 
son, which  it  is  much  to  be  lamented  he  did  not  live  to 
complete.  By  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Stone,  I  was  per- 
mitted to  copy  from  his  extensive  collection  of  docu- 
ments, such  portions  as  would  serve  the  purposes  of  the 
following  History. 

To  President  Sparks  of  Harvard  University,  General 
Whiting,  U.  S.  A.,  Brantz  Mayer,  Esq.  of  Baltimore,  Fran- 
cis J.  Fisher,  Esq.  of  Philadelphia,  and  Rev.  George  E. 
Ellis  of  Charlestown,  I  beg  to  return  a  warm  acknowledg- 


PREFACE. 


t« 

Vll 


ment  for  counsel  and  assistance.  Mr.  Benjamin  Periy 
Poore  and  Mr.  Henry  Ste Venn  procured  copies  of  valnabiu 
documents  from  the  archives  of  Paiis  and  lA>ndon 
Henry  R.  Schoolcraft,  Esq.  Dr.  Elv/yn  of  Phi!;idelphia, 
Df .  O'Callaghan  of  Alb  tiy,  George  H.  Moor^,  Esq.  of  New 
York,  Lyman  C.  Draper,  Esq.,  of  Philadelphia,  Judge  Law 
of  Vmcennes,  and  many  others,  have  kindly  contributed 
materials  to  the  work.  Nor  can  I  withhold  an  expression 
of  thanks  to  the  aid  so  freely  rendered  in  the  dull  task  of 
proof-reading  and  correction. 

The  crude  and  promiscuous  mass  of  materials  presented 
an  aspect  by  no  means  inviting.  The  field  of  the  history 
was  uncultured  and  nreclaimed,  and  the  l-bor  that 
awaited  me  was  like  that  of  the  border  settler,  who  be- 
fore he  builds  his  rugged  dwelling,  must  fell  the  forest- 
trees,  burn  the  undergrowth,  clear  the  ground,  and  hew 
the  fallen  trunks  to  due  proportion. 

Several  obstacles  have  retarded  the  progress  of  the 
work.  Of  these,  one  of  the  most  considerable  was  the 
condition  of  my  sight,  seriously,  though  not  permanently, 
impaired.  For  about  three  years,  the  light  of  day  was 
insupportable,  and  every  attempt  at  reading  or  writing 
completely  debarred.  Under  these  circumstances,  the 
task  of  sifting  the  materials  and  composing  the  work  was 
begun  and  finished.  The  papers  were  repeatedly  read 
aloud  by  an  amanuensis,  copious  notes  and  extracts  were 
made,  and  the  narrative  written  down  from  my  dictation 
This  process,  though  extremely  slow  and  laborious,  was 
no  without  its  advantages ;  and  I  am  well  convinced 
chat  the  authorities  have  been  even  more  minutely  exam- 
med,  more  scrupulously  collated,  and  more  thoroughly 
digested,  than  they  would  have  been  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances. 

In  order  to  escape  the  tedious  circumlocution,  which, 
from  the  nature  of  the  subject,  coiUd  not  otherwise  have 
been  avoided  the  name  English  is  applied,  throughout 
the  volume,  U>  the  British  American  colonists,  as  well  as 


•  •• 

Vlll 


PREFACE. 


to  the  people  of  the  mother  country.    The  necessity  is 
somewhat  to  be  regretted,  since,  even  at  an  early  period 
clear  distmctions  were  visible  between  the  offshoot  and 
the  par  at  stock. ' 

Boston,  August  1,  1851. 


HISTORY 

OP  THE 


CONSPIRACY  OF  PO:NriAC. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTORY. INDIAN  TRIBES    EAST    OF  THE    MISSISSIPPI. 

The  Indian  is  a  true  child  of  the  forest  and  the  desert. 
The  wastes  and  solitudes  of  nature  are  his  congenial 
home.  His  haughty  mind  is  imbued  with  the  spirit  of 
the  wilderness,  and  the  light  of  civilization  falls  on  him 
with  a  blighting  power.  His  unruly  pride  and  untamed 
freedom  are  in  harmony  with  the  lonely  mountains,  cata- 
racts, and  rivers  among  which  he  dwells;  and  primitive 
America,  with  her  savage  scenery  and  savage  men,  opens 
to  the  imagination  a  boundless  world,  unmatched  in  wild 
sublimity. 

The  Indians  east  of  the  Mississippi  may  be  divided 
into  several  great  families,  each  distinguished  by  a  radical 
peculiarity  of  language.  In  their  moral  and  intellectual, 
their  social  and  political  state,  these  various  families  ex- 
hibit strong  shades  of  distinction ;  but,  before  pointing 
them  out,  I  shall  indicate  a  few  prominent  characteristics, 
which,  faintly  or  distinctly,  mark  the  whole  in  common.  ' 

All  are  alike  a  race  of  hunters,  sustaining  life  wholly 
or  m  part,  by  the  fruits  of  the  chase.  Each  family  is 
split  into  tribes ;    and  these  tribes,  by  the  exigencies  of 

the  hunter  life,  are  a&ain  rlivirlp/i  iri+r.  c»k  ^-^^i —    i j_ 

or  villages,  often  scattered  far  asunder,  over  a  wide  extent 


i 


I 

1i. 


2  THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 

of  wilderness.  Unhappily  for  the  strength  and  harmony 
of  the  Indian  race,  each  tribe  is  prone  to  regard  itself,  not 
as  the  member  of  a  great  whole,  but  as  a  sovereign  and 
independent  nation,  often  arrogating  to  itself  an  import- 
ance superior  to  all  the  rest  of  mankind  ;  *  and  the  war- 
rior whose  petty  horde  might  muster  a  few  scores  of  half- 
starved  fighting  men,  strikes  his  hand  upon  his  heart, 
and  exclaims,  in  all  the  pride  of  patriotism,  « I  am  a 
Jfenomone." 

In  an  Indian  community,  each  man  is  his  own  master. 
He  abhors  restraint,  and  owns  no  other  authority  than 
his  own  capricious  will;  and  yet  this  wild  notion  of 
liberty  is  not  inconsistent  with  certain  gradations  of  rank 
and  influence.  Each  tribe  has  its  sachem,  or  civil  chief, 
whose  office  is  in  a  manner  hereditary,  and,  among  many, 
though  by  no  means  among  all  tribes,  descends  in  the 
female  line  ;  .  o  that  the  brother  of  the  incumbent,  or  the 
son  of  his  sister,  and  not  his  own  son,  is  the  rightful  suc- 
cessor to  his  dignities.!  If,  however,  in  the  opinion  of 
the  old  men  and  subordinate  chiefs,  the  heir  should  be 
disqualified  for  the  exercise  of  the  office  by  cowardice, 
incapacity,  or  any  defect  of  character,  they  do  not  scruple 
to  discard  him,  and  elect  another  in  his  place,  usually 
fixing  their  choice  on  one  of  his  relatives.  The  office  of 
the  sachem  is  no  enviable  one.  He  has  neither  laws  to 
administer  nor  power  to  enforce  his  commands.  His 
counsellors  are  the  inferior  chiefs  and  principal  men  of 
the  tribe ;  and  he  never  sets  himself  in  opposition  to  the 
popular  will,  which  is  the  sovereign  power  of  these  savage 
democracies.     His  province  is  to  advise,  and  not  .to  dic- 

*  Many  Indian  tribes  bear  names  which  in  their  dialect  signify 
men,  indicating  that  the  character  belongs,  par  excellence,  to 
them.  Sometimes  the  word  was  used  by  itself,  and  sometimes 
an  adjective  was  joined  with  it,  as  original  men,  men  surpass- 
ing all  others. 

t  The  dread  of  female  infidelity  has  been  assigned,  and  with 
probable  truth,  as  the  origin  of  this  custom.  The  sons  of  a  chief's 
sister  must  necessarily  be  liis  kindred  ;    though  his  own  reputed 


THEIR  PECULIAn  CHARACTERISTICS.  ^ 

tate;  but  should  he  be  a  man  of  energy,  talent,  and  ad- 
dress,  and  especially  should  he  be  supported  by  numerous 
relatives  and  friends,  he  may  often  acquire  no  small 
measure  of  respect  and  power.  A  clear  distinction  is 
drawn  between  the  civil  and  military  authority,  though 
both  are  often  united  in  the  same  person.  The  functions 
of  war-chief  may,  for  the  most  part,  be  exercised  by  -ly 
one  whose  prowess  and  reputation  are  sufficient  to  induce 
the  young  men  to  follow  him  to  battle;  and  he  may, 
whenever  he  thinks  proper,  raise  a  band  of  volunteers 
and  go  out  against  the  common  enemy. 

We  might  imagine  that  a  society  'so  loosely  framed 
would  soon  resolve  itself  into  anarchy  ;  yet  this  is  not 
the  case,  and  an  Indian  viUage  is  singularly  free  from 
wranghngs  and  petty  strife.  Several  causes  conspire  to 
this  result.  The  necessities  of  the  hunter  Mfe,  preventing 
the  accumulation  of  large  communities,  make  more 
stringent  organization  needless;  while  a  species  of  self/ 
control  mculcated  from  childhood  upon  every  individual 

ZlT^'LV''^'''''''  ''  dignity  and  mLho™  d 
greatly  aided  by  the  peculiar  temperament  of  the  race 
tends  strongly  to  the  promotion  of  harmony.  ThouS: 
he  owns  no  law,  the  Indian  is  inflexible  in  his  adherence 
to  ancient  usages  and  customs;  and  the  principle  of 
hero-worship,  which  belongs  to  his  nature,  inspires  him 
^th  deep  respect  for  the  sages  and  captains  of'^his  tri^ 

th.  Jf  f  '^"^rf  "*  .^t  '"^^^*^^^'  ^^d  the  absence  o 
the  passions  which  wealth,  luxury,  and  the  other  incidents 

of  cmhzation  engender,  are  favorable  to  internal  har- 

tonkin       f\       'T^  '^^''  "'^'t  "^«^i««  be  ascribed 
too  many  of  his  virtues,  which  would  quickly  vanish, 

were  he  elevated  from  his  savage  state  ' 

^  A  peculiar  social  institution  exists  among  the  Indians 

highly  curious  in  its  character;  and  thou^  I  am  not 

prepared  to  .ay  that  it  may  be  traced  thLgh  all  the 

tribes  east  of  the  Mississippi,  yet  its  prevalence  is  so 

for^f     "^ — ^"^'  "^""-"^^-^^  puiiuuai  reiatioiis  so  impor- 
tant, as  to  claim  especial  attention.    Indian  communities, 


i  ;i 


4  THE  C0NS1>IRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 

independently  of  their  local  distribution  into  tribes, 
bands,  and  villages,  are  composed  of  several  distinct  clans. 
Each  clan  has  its  emblem,  consisting  of  the  figure  of  some 
bird,  beast,  or  reptile-;  and  each  is  distinguished  by  the 
name  of  the  animal  which  it  thus  bears  as  its  device ;  as, 
for  example,  the  clan  of  the  Wolf,  the  Deer,  the  Otter,  or 
the  Hawk.  In  the  language  of  the  Algonquins,  these 
emblems  are  known  by  the  name  of  Totems*  The  mem- 
bers of  the  same  clan,  being  connected,  or  supposed  to  be 
so,  by  ties  of  kindred,  more  or  less  remote,  are  prohibited 
from  inter-marriage.  Thus  Wolf  cannot  marry  Wolf ; 
but  he  may,  if  he  chooses,  take  a  wife  from  the  clan  of 
Hawks,  or  any  other  clan  but  his  own.  It  follows  that 
when  this  prohibition  is  rigidly  observed,  no  single  clan 
can  live  apart  from  the  rest;  but  the  whole  must  be 
mingled  together,  and  in  every  family  the  husband  and 
wife  must  be  of  different  clans. 

To  different  totems  attach  different  degrees  of  rank 
and  dignity;  and  those  of  the  Bear,  the  Tortoise,  and 
the  Wolf  are  among  the  first  in  honor.  Each  man  is 
proud  of  his  badge,  jealously  asserting  its  claims  to  re- 
spect ;  and  the  members  of  the  same  clan,  though  they 
may,  perhaps,  speak  different  dialects,  and  dwell  far 
asunder,  are  yet  bound  together  by  the  closest  ties  of 
fraternity.  If  a  man  is  killed,  every  member  of  the  clan 
feels  called  upon  to  avenge  him ;  and  the  wayfarer,  the 
hunter,  or  the  warrior  is  sure  of  a  cordial  welcome  in  the 
distant  lodge  of  the  clansman  whose  face  perhaps  he  has 

*  Schoolcraft,  Oneota,  173. 

The  extraordinary  figures  intending  to  represent  tortoises,  deer, 
snakes,  and  other  animals,  which  are  often  seen  appended  to  In- 
dian treaties,  are  the  totems  of  the  chiefs,  who  employ  these  de- 
vices of  their  respective  clans  as  their  sign  manual.  The  device 
of  his  clan  is  also  sometimes  tattooed  on  the  body  of  the  warrior. 

The  word  tribe  might,  perhaps,  have  been  employed  with  as 
much  propriety  as  that  of  clan,  to  indicate  thetotemic  division  ; 
but  as  the  former  is  constantly  employed  to  represent  the  local 

nr  noHtifia.1  divisinns  nf  f.Vtft  Tn/lian  rana   Vtf\r\a\aaa  onnfiioi^n  ,^^■.,^A 

arise  from  using  it  in  a  double  capacity. 


THE  IROQUOIS.  g 

never  seen.  It  may  be  added  that  certain  privileges, 
highly  prized  as  hereditary  rights,  sometimes  reside  in 
particular  clans  such  as  that  of  furnishing  a  sachem  to 
the  tribe  or  of  performing  certain  religious  ceremonies  or 
magic  rites. 

The  Indians  east  of  the  Mississippi  may  be  divided  into 
three  great  families ;  the  Iroquois,  the  Algonquin,  and  the 
Mobihan,  each  speakmg  a  language  of  its  o^  varied  by 
numerous  dialectic  forms.  To  these  families  must  be 
added  a  few  stragglers  from  the  great  western  race  of  the 
Dahcoteh  besides  several  distinct  tribes  of  the  south,  each 

to  itself.  The  Mobilian  group  embraces  the  motley  con- 
federacy  of  the  Creeks,  the  crafty  Choctaws,  and  the 
staunch  and  warlike  Chickasaws.  Of  these,  and  of  the 
distinct  tribes  dwelling  in  their  vicinity,  or  within  their 
limits,  I  shall  only  observe  that  they  offer,  with  many 
modifications,  and  under  different  aspects,  the  same  es- 
sential features  which  mark  the  Iroquois  and  the  Aleon- 
quins,  the  two  great  families  of  the  north.*  The  latter 
who  were  the  conspicuous  actors  in  the  events  of  the  en-' 
suing  narrative,  demand  a  closer  attention 


THE    IROQUOIS    FAMILY. 

Foremost  in  war,  foremost  in  eloquence,  foremost  in 
the  r  savage  arts  of  policy,  stood  the  fierce  people  called 
by  themselves  the  Hodenosaunee,  and  by  the  French  the 
Iroquc'.s  a  name  which  has  since  been  applied  to  the  en- 

ThPv       riT^f  .*^'^  *"'^^^  *^^  dominant  member. 
Ihey  extended  their  conquests  and  their  depredations 

^.ll'^^^^^^'i  ^l""""  ^^^^''''^  passages  in  the  writings  of  Adair 
ern  tribe'«  't  «''"''  *'"V^^  totem  prevailed  among  the  tut^ 
LformpH  n,i  f ^  conversation  with  the  late  Albert  Gallatin,  he 

tation  a?  W«  w^^J"^  Tf  *?*^  ^^  *'^^  ^*^^«^«  ^^  *  Choctaw  depu! 
tat^on  at  Washmgton,  that  in  their  tribe  were  eight  totemic  clans 
divided  mio  two  classps.  of  fo«r  oo«»,      t*  ,• °  _  •'"ternic  cians, 

ine  same  number  of  clans,  and  the  same  division  into  classes 
were  to  be  found  among  the  Five  Nations,  or  Iro^L's  ' 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


> 


in 
i'l 


from  Quebec  to  the  Carolinas,  and  from  the  western 
prairies  to  the  forests  of  Maine.*  On  the  south,  they 
forced  tribute  from  the  subjugated  Delawares,  and  pierced 
the  mountain  fastnesses  of  the  Cherokees  with  incessant 
foray s.f  On  the  north,  they  uprooted  the  ancient  settle- 
ments of  the  Wyandots  ;  on  the  west,  they  exterminated 
the  Eries  and  the  Andastes,  and  spread  havoc  and  dismay 
among  the  tribes  of  the  Illinois  ;  and  on  the  east,  the  In- 
dians of  New  England  fled  at  the  first  peal  of  the  Mohawk 
war-cry.  Nor  was  it  the  Indian  race  alone  who  quailed 
before  their  ferocious  valor.  All  Canada  shook  witli  the 
desolating  fury  of  their  onset ;  the  people  fled  to  the  forts 
for  refuge  ;  the  blood-besmeared  conquerors  roamed  like 
wolves  among  the  burning  settlements,  and  the  youthful 
colony  trembled  on  the  brink  of  ruin. 

The  Iroquois  iri  some  measure  owed  their  triumphs  to 
the  position  of  their  country ;  for  they  dwelt  within  the 
present  limits  of  the  state  of  New  York,  whence  several 
gT-eat  rivers  and  the  inland  oceans  of  the  northern  lakes 
opened  ready  thoroughfares  to  their  roving    warriors 

*  Frangois,  a  well-known  Indian  belonging  to  the  remnant  of 
the  Penobscots  living  at  Old  Town,  in  Maine,  told  me,  in  the 
summer  of  1843,  that  a  tradition  wa8  current,  among  his  people, 
of  their  being  attacked  in  ancient  times  by  the  Mohawks,  or,  as 
he  called  them,  Mohogs,  a  tribe  of  the  Iroquois,  who  destroyed 
one  of  their  villages,  killed  the  men  and  women,  and  roasted  the 
small  children  on  forked  sticks,  like  apples,  before  the  fire. 
When  he  began  to  tell  his  story,  Franfois  was  engaged  in  patch- 
ing an  old  canoe,  in  preparation  for  a  moose  hunt;  but,  soon 
growing  warm  with  his  recital,  he  gave  over  his  work,  and  at  the 
conclusion  exclaimed  with  great  wrath  and  earnestness,  "Mohog 
all  devil  I " 

t  The  tribute  exacted  from  the  Delawares  consisted  of 
wampum,  or  beads  of  shell,  an  article  of  inestimable  value  with 
the  Indians.  "  Two  old  men  commonly  go  about,  every  year  or 
two,  to  receive  this  tribute  ;  and  I  have  often  had  opportunity  to 
observe  what  anxiety  the  poor  Indians  were  under,  while  these 
two  old  men  remained  in  that  part  of  tl^e  country  where  I  was. 
An  old  Mohawk  sachem,  in  a  poor  blanket  and  a  dirty  shirt,  may 
be  seen  issuing  his  orders  with  as  arbitrary  an  authofity  as  a 
Roman  dictator."— Golden,  Hist.  Five  Nations,  4. 


THE  IROGUOIS.  » 

uTfl^^  *^*  '"'^'*"^"*  wilderness.  But  the  true  foun- 
tom  of  their  success  is  to  be  sought  in  their  own  hiere^t 
energ.es.  wrought  to  the  most  effective  action  ™der  a 
political  fabnc  well  suited  to  the  Indian  life;  i"Teir 
mentol  and  moraJ  organization;  in  their  insatiable  arab- 
tion  and  restless  ferocity. 

In  their  scheme  of  government,  as  in  their  social  cus- 
toms  and  religious  observances,  the  Iroquois  displayelTn 
full  symmetry  and  matured  strength,  the  same  character" 
istics  which  in  other  tribes  are  found  distorted,  withered 
decayed  to  the  root^  or.  perhaps,  faintly  visible  in  anTm: 
perfect  gem.    They  consisted  of  five  tribes  or  mtiZ 
the  Mohawks,  the  Oneidas,  the  Onondagas.  the  C^uZ' 
and  the  Scne«is,  to  whom  a  sixth,  the  Tiscarorarwts 
afterwards  added.     To  each  of  these  tribes  belonged  an 
organ,zation  of  its  own.    Each  had  several  sach<  mf  who 
with  the  subordinate  chiefs  and  principal  men  rZlIted 
all  Its  internal  affairs ;  but,  when  foreign  powL Ttl^ 
be  treated  with,  or  matters  involving  the  whole  coTfede^ 
acy  required  deliberation,  all  the  safhems  of  the  sevemi 

W  TZ'Zr'fr'"''''  ''  *«  great  cS 
nouse,  in  the  Valley  of  Onondaga.    Here  ambassador, 

were  received,  alliances  were  adjufted,  and  alUuS  o? 

general  interest  discussed    with  exemplary  harmo^  1 

the  Unfted  sSren's^e^"''  "'"f""'  ?''»"«™''-«.  a  bishop  of 

of  ba,k.  On  each  .idf S'sXw ere  ^reeTSTnTarnT  '""' 
persons.    No  one  was  admitted  besides  the  membl^of  f       «^  "^ 

stear^s^rijtturrrr^^^^^^^ 

The  speaker  uttered  his  wordlTf  ^."™'^«.  ^oWng  their  pipes, 
few  n'otes  at  the  cl"  of  elcl^enterf  "^w" '  "'^^'^  ""'"«  " 
to  the  council  was  oonfirn^^  w    n     tu  ^ '"*™'"  ™'  pleasing 

And,  at  the  enZf  2  s™ecK  I?  ^  '^^  "'°'^  ^^'  <"  ^es^ 

tered  bearing  a  large  kettle  flHed  w°th  meat  uTn  ^„°,"™  *"" 
their  shoulders,  which  was  first  ,>rJ^r,tZt'\TllJ!°^\^">^ 

Ckio"r:k^'onhVket?rwTthTT"''°'^^^^^^^^ 

«  or  me  kettle,  with  which  every  one  might  at 


Ill 


I  i  di 


8 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


The  order  of  debate  was  prescribed  by  time-honored  cus- 
toms ;  and,  in  the  fiercest  heat  of  controversy,  the  assem- 
bly maintained  its  iron  self-control.  ^ 

But  the  main  stay  of  Iroquois  polity  was  the  system  of 
totemship.  It  was  this  which  gave  the  structure  its 
elastic  strength  ;  and  but  for  this,  a  mere  confederacy  of 
jealous  and  warlike  tribes  must  soon  have  been  rent 
asunder  by  shocks  from  without  or  discord  from  within. 
At  some  early  period,  the  Iroquois  must  have  formed  an 
individual  nation ;  for  the  whole  people,  irrespective  of 
their  separation  into  tribes,  consisted  of  eight  totemic 
clans;  and  the  members  of  each  clan,  to  what  nation 
soever  they  belonged,  were  mutually  bound  to  one  an- 
other by  those  close  ties  of  fraternity  which  mark  this 
singular  institution.  Thus  the  five  nations  of  the  con- 
federacy were  la<!;ed  together  by  an  eight-fold  band  ;  and 
to  this  hour  their  slender  remnants  cling  to  one  another 
with  invincible  tenacity. 

It  was  no  small  security  to  the  liberties  of  the  Iro- 
quois—liberties  which  they  valued  beyond  any  other  pos- 
session—that by  the  Indian  custom  of  descent  in  the 
female  line,  which  among  them  was  more  rigidly  adhered 
to  than  elsewhere,  the  office  of  the  sachem  must  pass,  not 
to  his  son,  but  to  his  brother,  his  sister's  son,  or  some  yet 
remoter  kinsman.  His  power  was  constantly  deflected 
into  the  collateral  branches  of  his  fannly ;  and  thus  one 
of  the  strongest  temptations  of  ambition  was  cut  off.  The 
Iroquois  had  no  laws;  but  they  had  ancient  customs 
which  took  the  place  of  laws.  Each  man,  or  rather,  each 
clan,  was  the  avenger  of  its  own  wrongs ;  but  the  manner 
of  the  retaliation  was  fixed  by  established  usage.  The 
tribal  sachems,  and  even  the  great  council  at  Onondaga, 

once  help  himself  to  as  much  as  he  could  eat.  When  the  guests 
had  eaten  their  fill,  they  begged  the  counsellors  to  do  the  same. 
The  whole  was  conducted  in  a  very  decent  and  quiet  manner. 
Indeed,  now  and  then,  one  or  the  other  would  lie  flat  upon  his 
back  to  rest  himself,  and  sometinies  they  would  stop,  joke,  as^t 
laugh  heartily."— Loskiel,  Hist.  Morav.  Miss.  138. 


ored  cus- 
le  assem- 

jystem  of 
cture  its 
deracy  of 
)een  rent 
n  within, 
ormed  an 
Dective  of 
t  totemic 
it  nation 
)  one  an-, 
nark  this 
i  the  con- 
md ;  and 
i  another 

the  Iro- 
)ther  pos- 
it in  the 
f  adhered 
pass,  not 
some  yet 
deflected 
thus  one 
off.     The 
.   customs 
ther,  each 
le  manner 
xge.     The 
Dnondaga, 

I  the  guests 
)  the  same, 
et  manner, 
it  upon  his 


TRADITIONS  OF  THEIR  CONFEDERACY.  g 

had  no  power  to  compel  the  execution  of  their  decrees  • 
yet  tliey  were  looked  up  to  with  a  respect  which  the 
soldier's  bayonet  or  the  sheriff's  staff  would  Tver  have 
commanded ;  and  it  is  highly  to  the  honor  of  the  S 
character  that  they  could  exact  so  great  an  authority 

rit?%hi?'l^°^  *''*  ^""T™'  ''  ''"'*  '"  •"'P«le««  obscu. 
uty.    That  they  came  from  the  west ;  that  they  came 

tmLoIr^n  n'  *^»*™<'"'«''  of   three    conflicting 

traditions^  all  equally  worthless  as  aids  to  historic  in 

r'^C  ,I''««**««'-  of  their  eonfedemcy-the  eveni 

Llr '1  to  wt-'b'""^^  T''  '''  *«-  ^eatne»s  aTd' 
power  and  to  which  we  need  assign  no  remoter  date  than 

NewY:rk";t7f'''r  *'  *^^*^™^^  oftheolucMn 
JNew  irork_that  faint  rays  of  light  begin  to  pierce  the 

gloom,  and  the   chaotic  traditions   of   the  ernfer  en^.h 
mould  themselves  into  forms  more  palpable  and  SistCt 

bel^of"[hr?  ''''  *'  ?'  ''^  *"«  Waters-such   s    he 
belief  of  the  Iroquois-descended  to  the  earth  to  instruct 
his  favorite  people  in  the  arts  of  savage  life    and  iXn 
evirslitTb*""  -ere  tormented  by  gifnts,  m^r  "a^S 
diLce  to^bandTh    ^V'""*^'  *"'^^' *«"•  the  common 
league     Wh, Wh      ™"''''  *°^*«''  '"  «"  everlasting 
league.     While  the  injunction  was  as  yet  unfulfilled  the 
sacred  messenger  was  recalled  to  the  Great  S    but 
before  his  departure,  he  promised  that  ano«ier  shouM 
appear,  empowered  to  instruct  the  peonle  in  all  thff 
taiued   to   their   confederation.     IK  cordtoHv    a^"": 
band   of  Mohawk  warriors   was  thread  ng   the  Lereat 

cC  deltas  Tr'  ^"^-  '"'''"^  ^''^  h««^' '™ 

blackest  depths,  a  hoarse  voice  chantmg  in  measured  ca- 
t..:  X^'if  hai  ZTXTon  tCZrt  ^"~'«™«-    -f^-t 

:fN;;y^r" '*'"*"'''' """^  ""'"^  j^>-->$i-'^  mn^^z 


10 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


I 

i! 


IFM 


dence ;  and,  following  the  sound,  they  saw,  seated  among 
the  trees,  a  monster  of  so  hideous  an  aspect,  that,  one  and 
all,  they  stood  benumhed  with  terror.  His  features  were 
were  wild  and  frightful.  He  was  encompassed  by  hissing 
rattlesnakes,  which.  Medusa-like,  hung  writhing  from  his 
head ;  and  on  the  ground  around  him  were  strewn  im- 
plements of  incantation,  and  magic  vessels  formed  of 
human  skulls.  Recovering  from  their  amazement,  the 
warriors  could  perceive  that  in  the  mystic  words  of  the 
chant,  which  he  still  poured  forth,  were  couched  the 
laws  and  principles  of  the  destined  confederacy.  The 
tradition  further  declares  that  the  monster,  being  sur- 
rounded and  captured,  was  presently  transformed  to 
human  shape,  that  he  became  a  chief  of  transcendent 
wisdom  and  prowess,  and  to  the  day  of  his  death  ruled 
the  councils  of  the, now  united  tribes.  To  this  hour,  the 
presiding  sachem  of 'the  council  at  Onondaga  inherits  from 
him  the  honored  name  of  Atotarho. 

The  traditional  epoch  which  preceded  the  auspicious 
event  of  the  confederacy,  though  wrapped  in  clouds  and 
darkness,  and  defying  historic  scrutiny,  has  yet  a  char- 
acter and  meaning  of  its  own.  The  gloom  is  peopled 
thick  with  phantoms;  with  monsters  and  prodigies, 
shapes  of  wild  enormity,  yet  offering,  in  the  Teutonic 
strength  of  their  conception,  the  evidence  of  a  robustness 
of  mind  unparalleled  among  tribes  of  a  different  lineage. 
In  these  evil  days,  the  scattered  and  divided  Iroquois 
were  beset  with  every  form  of*  peril  and  disaster. 
Giants,  cased  in  armor  of  stone,  descended  on  them  from 
the  mountains  of  the  north.  Huge  beasts  trampled  down 
their  forests  like  fields  of  grass.  Human  heads,  with 
streaming  hair  and  glaring  eyeballs,  shot  through  the  air 
like  meteors,  shedding  pestilence  and  death  throughout 
the  land.  A  great  horned  serpent  rose  from  Lake  On- 
tario ;  and  only  the  thunder-bolts  of  the  skies  could  stay 
his  ravages,  and  drive  him  back  to  his  native  deeps.  The 
skeletons  of  men,  victims  of  some  monster  of  the  forest, 
were  seeu  swimming  m  the  Lake  of  Teungktoo:  and 


THEIR  MYTHS  AND  LEGENDS. 


It 


around  the  Seneca  village  on  the  Hill  of  Genundewah,  a 
two-headed  serpent  coiled  himself,  of  size  so  monstrous 
that  the  wretched  people  were  unable  to  ascend  his  scaly 
sides,  and  perished   in    multitudes   by   his   pestilential 
breath.    Mortally  wounded  at  length  by  the  magic  arrow 
of  a  child,  he  r.  lied  down  the  steep,  sweeping  away  the 
forest  with  his   writhings,   and  plunging   into  the  lake 
below,  where  he  lashed  the  black  waters  till  they  boiled 
with  blood  and  foam,  and  at  length,  exhausted  with  his 
agony,  sunk,  and  perished   at  the   bottom.     Under  the 
Falls  of  K^iagara  dwelt  the  Spirit  of  the  Thunder,  with 
his  brood  of  giant  sons ;  and  the  Iroquois  trembled  in 
their  villages  when,  amid  the  blackening  shadows  of  the 
storm,  they  heard  his  deep  shout  roll  along  the  firmament. 
The  energy  of  fancy,  whence  these  barbarous  creations 
drew  their  birth,  displayed  itself,  at  a  later  period,  in  that 
peculiar  eloquence   which   the    wild   democracy  of  the 
Iroquois  tended  to  call  forth,  and  to  which  the  mountain 
and  the  forest,  the  torrent  and  the  storm,  lent  their  stores 
of  noble  imagery.     That  to  this  imaginative  vigor  was 
jomed  mental  power  of  a  different  stamp,  is  witnessed  by 
the  caustic  irony  of  Garangula  and  Sagoyewatha,  and  no 
less  by  the  subtle  policy,  sagacious  as  it  was  treacherous, 
which  marked  the  dealings  of  the  Iroquois  with  surround- 
ing tribes.* 

»  For  traditions  of  the  Iroquois  see  Schoolcraft,  Notes,  Chap. 
IX.  Gusick,  History  of  the  Five  Nations,  and  Clark,  Hist.  Onon- 
daga, I. 

Cusick  was  an  old  Tuscarora  Indian,  who,  being  disabled  by 
an  accident  from  active  occupations,  essayed  to  become  the  his- 
torian of  his  people,  and  produced  a  small  pamphlet,  written  in 
a  language  almost  unintelhgible,  and  filled  with  a  medley  of  tra- 
ditions in  which  a  few  grain3  of  truth  are  inextricably  mingled 
with  a  tangled  mass  of  absurdities.  He  relates  the  monstrous 
legends  of  his  people  with  an  air  of  implicit  faith,  and  traces  the 
presiding  sachems  of  the  confederacy  in  regular  descent  from  the 
nrst  Atotarho  downwards.  His  work,  which  was  printed  at  the 
luscarora  village,  near  Lewiston,  in  1828.  is  illuatratifld  hvspv«rai 
r^^ae  engravings  representing  the  Stone  Giants,  the  Flying  Heads, 
and  other  traditional  monsters. 


!ii  < 


Ph 


'yU 


IS 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


With  all  this  intellectual  superiority,  the  arts  of  life 
among  them  had  not  emerged  from  their  primitive  rude- 
ness; and  their  coarse  pottery,  their  spear  and  arrow 
heads  of  stone,  were  in  no  way  superior  to  those  of  many 
other  tribes.     Their  agriculture  deserves  a  higher  praise 
In  1696,  the  invading  army  of  Count  Frontenac  fouTid 
the  maize  fields  extending  a  league  and  a  half  or  two 
leagues  from  their  villages ;  and,  in  1779,  the  troops  of 
General   Sullivan   were  filled   iv^ith  amazement  at  their 
abundant  stores  of  corn,  beans,  and  squashes,  an  1  at  the 
ancient  apple  orchards  wh'  h  grew  around  their  settle- 
ments. 

Their  dwellings  and  works  of  defence  were  far  from 
contemptible,  either  in  their  dimensions  or  in  their  struc- 
ture; and  though  by  the  several  attacks  of  the  French 
and  especially  by  the  invasion  of  De  Nouville,  in  I687' 
and  of  Frontenac,  nine  years  later,  their  fortified  towns 
were  levelled  to  the  earth,  never  again  to  reappear  •  yet 
m  the  works  of  Champlain  and  other  early  writers  we 
find  abundant  evidence  of  their  pristine  condition.    Along 
the  banks  of  the  Mohawk,  among  the  hills  and  hollows 
of  Onondaga,  in  the  forests  of  Oneida  and  Cayuga,  on  the 
romantic  shores  of  Seneca  Lake  and  the  rich  borders  of 
the  Genesee,  surrounded  by  waving  maize  fields,  and  en- 
circled  from  afar  by  the  green  margin  of  the  forest,  stood 
the  ancient  strongholds  of  the  confederacy.    The  cluster- 
ing  dwellings  were  encompassed  by  palisades,  in  single 
double,  or  trinJe  rows,  pierced  with  loopholes,  furnished 
with  platfoTTLi.^  within,  frr   the  convenience  of  the  de- 
fenders, vf.lii  m«i.gazines  of  stones  to  hurl  upon  the  heads 
of  the  enemy,  and  with  water  conductors  to  extinguish 
any  fire  which  might  be  kindled  from  without.* 

*  Lafitau,  Moeurs  des  Sauvages  Ameriquains,  II.  4-10 
Frontenac,  in  his  expedition  against  the  Onondagas!  in  1696. 
(see  Official  Journal,  Doc.  Hist.  New  York,  I.  332,)  found  one  of 
their  villages  built  in  an  oblong  form,  with  four  bastions  The 
wall  was  formed  of  three  rows  of  palisjides,  those  of  the  outer 
row  Demg  forty  or  lif  ty  feet  high.    The  usual  figure  of  the  Iro'- 


THEIR  FORTS  AND  VILLAGES. 


18 


The  area  which  these  defences  enclosed  was  often 
several  acres  in  extent,  and  the  dwellings,  tanged  in  order 
within,  were  sometimes  more  than  a  hundred  feet  in 
length.  Posts,  flrnily  driven  into  the  ground,  v/ith  an 
intervening  framework  of  poles,  formed  tlie  basis  of  the 
structure;  and  -'s  sides  and  arched  r<x.f  were  closely 
covered  with  layers  of  elm  bark.  Each  of  the  Uirger 
dwellings  contained  several  distinct  families,  whose  sepa- 
rate fires  were  built  along  the  central  space,  while  com- 
partments on  each  side,  like  the  stalls  of  ;i  stable,  afforded 
some  degree  of  privacy.  Here,  rudi^  rouches  were  pre- 
pared, and  bear  and  deer  skins  spread  ;  while  above,  the 
ripened  ears  of  maize,  suspended  in  rows,  formed  a  golden 
tapestry.* 


quois  villages  was  circular  or  oval,  and  in  this  instance  the  bas- 
tions were  no  donbt  the  suggestion  of  some  European  adviser. 

*  Bartram  gives  the  following  account  of  the  great  council- 
house  at  Onondaga,  which  he  visited  in  1743. 

"We  alighted  at  the  council-house,  where  the  chiefs  were  al- 
ready assembled  to  receive  us,  which  they  did  with  a  grave, 
cheerful  complaisance,  according  to  their  custom  ;  tl\ey  shew'd 
us  where  to  lay  our  baggage,  and  repose  ourselves  during  our 
stay  with  them  ;  which  was  in  the  two  end  apartments  of  this 
large  house.  The  Indians  that  came  with  us  were  placed  over 
against  us.  This  cabin  is  about  eighty  feet  long  and  seventeen' 
broad,  the  common  passage  six  feet  wide,  and  the  apartments  on 
each  side  five  feet,  raised  a  foot  above  the  passage  by  a  long  sap- 
ling, hfcwed  square,  and  fitted  with  joists  that  go  from  it  to  the 
b?>ck  of  the  house  ;  on  these  joists  they  lay  large  pieces  of  bark, 
and  01  extraordinary  occasions  spread  mats  made  of  rushes  :  this 
favor  we  had  ;  on  these  floors  they  set  or  lye  down,  every  one  as 
he  will ;  the  apartments  are  divided  from  each  other  by  boards 
or  bark,  six  or  seven  foot  long,  from  the  lower  floor  to  the  upper 
on  which  they  put  their  lumber,  when  they  have  eaten  their 
homony,  as  they  set  in  each  apartment  before  the  fire  :  they  can 
put  the  bowl  over  head,  having  not  above  five  foot  to  re^ch  ;  they 
set  on  the  floor  sometimes  at  each  end,  but  mostly  at  one  ;'  they 
have  a  shed  to  put  their  wood  into  in  the  winter,  ov  in  the  sum- 
mer, to  set  to  converse  or  play,  that  has  a  door  to  the  south  ;  all 
the  sides  and  roof  of  the  cabin  are  made  of  bark,  hnnnd  fasf  t^ 
poles  set  in  the  ground,  and  bent  round  on  the  top,  or  set  aflatt 
for  the  roof,  as  we  set  our  rafters ;  over  each  fireplace  they  leave 


: 


14 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


I. J 


In  the  long  evenings  of  midwinter,  when  in  the  wilder- 
ness without  the  trees  cracked  w:th  biting  cold,  and  the 
forest  paths  wore  clogged  with  snow,  tii  ii,  around  the 
lodge-fires  of  the  Iroquois,  wsirriors,  squaws,  and  restless 
naked  children  were  clustered  in  socijil  groups,  each  dark 
face  brightening  in  the  Heckle  fii-elight,  while,  with  jest 
imd  laugh,  the  pipe  passed  round  from  hand  to  hand. 
Perhaps  some  shrivelled  old  warrior,  t!ie  story-teller  of 
the  tribe,  recounted  to  attentive  ears  the  deeds  of  ancient 
heroism,  legends  of  spirits  and    monsters,  or    tales   of 
witches  and  vampires— superstitions  not  less  rife  among 
this  all-believing  race,  than  among  the  nations  of  the 
transatlantic  world. 

The  life  of  the  Iroquois,  though  void  of  those  multi- 
plymg  phases  which  vary  the  routine  of  civilized  exist- 
ence, was  one  of  sharp  excitement  and  sudden  contrast. 
The  chase,  the  war-path,  the  dance,  the  festival,  the  game 
of  hazard,  the  race  of  political  ambition,  all  had  their 
votaries.     When  the  assembled  sachems  had  resolved  on 
war  against  some  foreign  tribe,  and  when,  from  their 
great  council-house  of  bark,  in  the  Valley  of  Onondaga, 
their  messengers  had  gone  forth  to  invite  the  warriors  to 
arms,  then  from  east  to  west,  through  the  farthest  bounds 
of  the  confederacy,  a  thousand  warlike  hearts  caught  up 
the  summons  with  glad  alacrity.     With  fasting  and  pray- 
ing, and  consulting  dreams  and  omens ;  with  invoking 
the  war-god,  and  dancing  the  frantic  war-dance,  the  war- 
riors sought  to  insure  the  triumph  of  their  arms  •  and 
these  strange  rites  concluded,  they  began  their  stealthy 
progress,  full  of  confidence,  through  the  devious  path- 
ways of  the  forest.      For  days   and  weeks,  in  anxious 
expectation,  the  villagers  await  the  result.     And  now  as 
evening  closes,  a  shrill,  wild  cry,  pealing  from  afar,  o'ver 
the  darkening  forest,  proclaims  the  return  of  the  victori- 

a  hole  to  let  out  the  smoke,  which,  in  rainy  weather,  they  cover 
with  a  piece  of  bark,  and  this  they  can  easily  reach  witli  a  pole 
to  push  It  on  one  side  or  quite  over  tho  hnlo  •  off«,.  tiiig  m"-'-' 
are  most  of  their  cabins  built.  "-Bartram,  ^Observations  40  '^^^' 


THE  WAR-PATH. 


16 


ous  warriors.  Tho  village  is  alive  with  sudden  commo- 
tion ;  and  snatching  sticks  and  stones,  knives  and  hatch- 
ets, men,  women,  and  children,  yelling  like  flends  let 
loose,  swarm  out  of  the  narrow  portal,  to  visit  upon  the 
miserable  captives  a  foretaste  of  the  deadlier  torments  in 
store  for  them.  And  now,  the  black  arches  of  the  forest 
glow  with  tbe  fires  of  death  ;  and  with  brandished  torch 
and  firebrand  the  frenzied  multitude  close  around  theii 
victim.  The  pen  shrinks  to  write,  the  heart  sickens  to 
conceive,  the  fierceness  of  his  agcmy ;  yet  still,  amid  the 
din  of  his  tormentors,  rises  his  clear  voice  of  scorn  and 
defiance.  The  work  is  done;  the  blackened  trunk  is 
flung  to  the  dogs,  and,  with  clamorous  shouts  and  hoot- 
ings,  the  murderers  seek  to.  drive  away  the  spirit  of  their 
victim.* 

The  Iroquois  reckoned  these  barbarities  among  their 
most  exquisite  enjoyments;  and  yet  they  had  other 
sources  of  pleasure,  which  made  up  in  frequency  and  in 
nmocence  all  that  they  lacked  in  intensity.  Each  passing 
season  had  its  feasts  and  dances,  often  mingling  religion 
with  social  pastime.  The  young  had  their  frolics  and 
merry-makings ;  and  the  old  had  their  no  less  frequent 
councils,  where  conversation  and  laughter  alternated  with 
grave  deliberations  for  the  public  weal.  There  were  also 
stated  periods   marked  by   tlie  recurrence  of  momentous 

*  "Being  at  this  place  the  17  of  June,  there  came  fifty  pris- 
oners  from  the  south- west  ward.    They  were  of  two  nations,  some 

rboTtinT  ^f "  ^"'^'  '  )'^  °'^^^  ""'^^  ^'  ^"-  One  nation  is 
w^?h\np  '^^^'^  r'"^^  ^'""^  ^"^  Christians,  and  trade  onely 
with  one  greatt  house,  nott  farr   from  the  sea,  and  the  other 

was  burnt'  ?wo  '"^  '^^'  "'";  ^  ^^^"^  P^^P^^-    T''^«  d^y  «f  them 

fallen  bt    it  t   """  ^^'"^  ^u^k"'"^  "'^^'^^  ^«  '^  y"  h«"«««  ^^d  all 
ye  nmired        '°^^  ^  ^'  '"habitants  driving  away  ye  ghosts  of 

crud/rbnrnf  f '"^  ^"^  Canagorah,  that  day  theio  were  most 
cruel  y  burnt  four  men,  four  women,  and  one  boy.    The  crueltv 

irr.±?ji!r:L*^--v^^-they^ 

aswered;adt^^S^oJ;."l^SS:trrlS^^^ 


IC 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ili!: 
Mil 


ceremonies,  in  which  the  whole  community  took  part- 
the  mystic  sacrifice  of  the  dogs,  the  wUd  orgies  of  the 
dream  feast,  and  the  loathsome  festival  of  the  exhumation 

H  1  H  ;  ^'*' '"  *"  '"**™'«  «*  ^'"-  and  hmiting, 
these  multiform  occupations  would  often  fail ;  and  while 
the  women  were  toiling  in  the  cornfields,  the  lazy  war- 
thMr  own^  .^™ght  relief  from  the  scanty  resources  of 
theu>  own  mmds,  and  beguiled  the  hours  with  smoking 
or  sleeping,  with  gambling  or  gallantry 
If  we  seek  for  a  single  trait  preeminently  characteristic 

wh  ^h  i    "''■T'f'.,'^''  "''*''   *""  ''  '"  *"*  bomidless  pride 
which  impelled  them  to  style  themselves,  not   inaptly  as 

XstP'tv?""''!,'"^'  "*:  >»«"  surpassing  all  others'' 
f.n  '/f"'""^  ""^"^  their  great  warriors,  as  he 
fell  wounded  among  a  crowd  of  Algonquins,-"  must  I 
who  have  made  the  whole  earth  tremble,  now  die  by 
the  hands  of  children  ?  "  Their  power  kej^t  pace  with 
their  pride.  Their  war-parties  roamed  over  half  Amerir 
and  their  name  was  a  terror  from  the  Atlantic  t»  the' 
Mississippi ;  bu(^  when  we  ask  the  numerical  strength  of 
the  dreaded  confederacy,  when  we  discover  that,  if  the 

^nlrt  "L^r  ^'''*'f  ^"""'P'^''  *'•«'''  ""i'^d  cantons 
could  not  have  mustered  four   thousand  warriors,   we 

stand  amazed  at  the  folly  and  dissension  which  leftTo 
vast  a  region  the  prey  of  a  handful  of   bold  marauder 
Of  the  cities  and  villages  now  so  thickly  scattered  ovS 
the  lost  domain  of  the  Iroquois,  a  single  one  mght  boast 
triSs?  """"'""^  population  than  aU  the  five  united 

their  aggregate  force  at  two  thousand  one  Ered  aTflftv 
fighting  men.  The  report  of  Colonel  Coureey,  agent  from  v?7 
Bmm,  at  about  the  same  period.  eIo»«Iv  JZ'J^^J^L  _°??  XT" 
.taiement.    Greenhalgh's  journal  wiirbe"fou.;dVrchatoe"r^' 


THE  HURONS  OR  V  /ANDOTS.  j-r 

From  this  remarkable  people,  who  mth  all  the  ferocity 
of  their  race  blended  heroic  virtues  and  marked  endow- 
mente  of  intellect,  I  pass  to  other  members  of  the  same 
great  family,  whose  different  fortunes  may  perhans  be 
ascribed  rather  to  the  force  of  circumstance,  than  tTanv 
intrinsic  inferiority.  -^ 

The  peninsula  between  the  Lakes  Huron,  Erie,  ond 
Ontario  was  occupied  by   two  distant  peoples,  speaking 
dialects  of  the  Iroquois  tongue.     The  Hurons   or  Wvan- 
dots,  including  the  formidable  bands  called  by  the  French 
the  Dionondadies,  or  Tobacco  Nation,  dwelt  among  the 
forests  which  bordered  the  eastern   shores  of  the  fresh 
water  sea,  to  which  they  have  left  their  name;  while  the 
neutral  nation,  so  called  from  their  neutrality  in  the  war 
between  the  Hurons  and  the  Five  Nations,  inhabited  the 
northern  shores  of  Lake  Erie,  and  even  extended  their 
eastern  flank  across  the  strait  of  Niagara 
« J''^'  P^^l^'Mon  of  the  Hurons    has  been  variously 

wobablv    r  *™ /•^""^"^  '"  «-'y  thousand  souls,  but 
probably    did    not    exceed   the   former    estimate.     The 

f  rlT"'  *"''■  ^^^  i'""'''  ^""^  ^'^■••y  ""ong  them,  and 
from  their  copious  descriptions  it  is  apparent  that  in 
legends  and  superstitions,  manners  and  habits,  religious 
observances  and  social  customs,  this  people  were  cSv 
assimilated  to  their  brethren  of  the  Five  Nations  Thdr 
capacious  dwellings  of  bark,  and  their  palisaded  forts 
seemed  copied  after  the  same  model.  Like  the  Five  Na 
tions,  they  were  divided  into  tribes,  and  cross-divided  into 

^e^cTnded  rti,:f  •  'I  T'*  '".""'  '""^  °«'-  '^  «-h  1 
descended  in  the  female  line.     The  same  crude  materials 

of  a  political  fabric  were  to  be  found  in  both ;  buTunirke 

the  Iroquois,  the  Wyandots  had  not  as  yet  wrought  "her^ 

s£l^t""l'''  ^f  '"  *''«  Documentary  History  of  New  York 
t-trX^^th  3mucTdtr"J"^^^       f  "'^  revolution, Ihen 

are  given  bv  Clinfnn   in   v„-o  r*-  "' '     ""'''^"  "^  «'"«^«u  usumates 

several  by  JeS^^iL^hi^'^Noter^rgVil^  ^'^  '"'*'™'' '''" 


18 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


I  Mil 


^ili:! 


into  a  system,  and  woven  them  into    an  harmonious 
whole. 

Like  the  Five  Nations,  the  Wyandots  were  in  some 
measure  an  agricultural  people ;  they  bartered  the  sur- 
plus products  of  their  maize  fields  to  surrounding  tribes, 
usually  receiving  fish  in  exchange  ;  and  this  traffic  was  so 
considerable,  that  the  Jesuits  styled  their  country  the 
Granary  of  the  Algonquins.* 

Their  prosperity  was  rudely  broken  by  th^  rancorous 
hostilities  of  the  Five  Nations ;  for  though  the  conflicting 
parties  were  not  ill  matched  in  point  of  numbers,  yet  the 
united  counsels  and  ferocious  energies  of  the  confederacy 
swept  all  before  them.  In  the  year  1649,  in  the  depth  of 
winter,  their  warriors  invaded  the  country  of  the  Wyan- 
dots, stormed  their  largest  villages,  and  involved  all  with- 
m  in  indiscriminate  slaughter.  The  survivors  fled  in  panic 
terror,  and  the  whole  nation  was  dispersed  and  oroken. 

Some  found  refuge  among  the  French  of  Canada,  where 
at  the  village  of  Lorette,  near  Quebec,  their  descendants 
still  remain ;  others  were  incorporated  with  their  conquer- 
ors; while  others  again  fled  northward,  beyond  Lake 
Superior,  and  sought  an  asylum  among  the  desolate  wastes 
which  bordered  on  the  north-eastern  bands  of  the  Dahco- 
tah.  Driven  back  by  those  fierce  bison  hunters,  they 
next  established  themselves  about  the  outlet  of  Lake 
Superior,  and  the  shores  and  islands  in  the  northern  parts 
of  Lake  Huron.  Thence,  about  the  year  1680,  they  de- 
scended to  Detroit,  where  they  farmed  a  permanent  set- 
tlement,  and  where,  by  their  superior  valor,  capacity,  and 
address,  they  soon  acquired  a  marvellous  ascendancy  over 
the  surrounding  Algonquins. 

The  ruin  of  the  Neutral  Nation  followed  close  on  that 
of  the  Wyandots,  to  whom,  according  to  Jesuit  authority, 

*  Bancroft,  in  his  chapter  on  the  Indians  east  of  the  Mississippi 
falj^intoa  sliglit  mistake  when  he  says  that  no  trade  was 

^  %V?^-  ^t^v^  ^^^  ^^  ^*^®  *"'^®^-    ^^^  ^"  account  of  the  traffic  be- 
tw'een  'the  Hurons  and  Algonauins.  seo  MemiAr    PolQf,•r^«   a^^ 

Hurohs,  1637,  p.  171.  "  "" '     ■""° 


armonious 


THE  ANDASTES  AND  ERIES.  19 

they  bore  an  exact  resemblance  in  character  and  manners 
The  Senecas  soon  found  means  to  pick  a  quarrel  with 
them ;  they  were  assailed  by  all  the  strength  of  the  insa- 
tiable confederacy,  and  within  a  few  years  their  destruc- 
tion as  a  nation  was  complete. 

South  of  Lake  Erie  dwelt  two  potent  members  of  the 
Iroquois  family.  The  Andastes  built  their  villages  along 
the  valleys  of  the  Alleghany  and  the  Upper  Ohio ;  while 
the  Erigas,  or  Eries,  occupied  the  borders  of  the  lake 
which  still  retains  their  name.  Of  these  two  nations 
little  is  known,  for  the  Jesuits  had  no  missions  among 
them,  and  few  traces  of  them  survive  beyond  their  names 
and  the  record  of  their  destruction.  The  war  with  the 
Wyandots  was  scarcely  over,  when  the  Five  Nations 
turned  their  fratricidal  arms  against  their  Erie  breth- 
ren. 

In  the  year  1655,  using  their  canoes  as  scaling  ladders 
they  stormed  the  Erie  strongholds,  leaped  down  like' 
tigers  among  the  defenders,  and  butchered  them  without 
mercy.*  The  greater  part  of  the  nation  was  involved  in 
the  massacre,  and  the  remnant  was  incorporated  with  the 
conquerors,  or  with  other  tribes,  to  which  they  fled  for 
refuge.  The  ruin  of  the  Andastes  came  next  in  turn ;  but 
this  brave  people  fought  for  twenty  years  against  their 
inexorable  assailants,  and  their  destruction  was  not  con- 
summated  until  the  year  1672,  when  they  shared  the  fate 
01  the  rest. 

Thus,  within  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  four 
nations,  the  most  brave  and  powerful  of  the  North  Ameri- 
can savages,  sank  before  the  arms  of  the  confederates. 

iN  or  did  their  triumphs  end  here.     Withiq^t  '^ 

space  they  subdued  their  southern  neig^^ 

*  An  account  of  the  destruction  of  the  EfS.  drawn 

h    n  tT'.'^'":  ""^^  ^^  ^^"^^  ^^  a"  interest!^  lectureJ 

by  O.H.  Marshall,  Esq.,  and  publishPd  in  tL  jLs    ^ 

Messenger  for  May  and  June.  1849.     T^a  tA,T.:  > 

this  subject,  as  related  to  the  writer  by  a  chiOimwB^Migas. 

do  not  agree  with  the  narratives  of  the  Jesuits.^      »3Jl^as, 


«■■» 


20 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  leading  members  of  the  Algonquin  family,  and  ex- 
pelled  the  Ottawas,  a  numerous  people  of  the  same  lineage, 
from  the  borders  of  the  river  which  bears  their  name! 
In  the  north,  the  west,  and  the  south,  their  conquests  em- 
braced  every  adjacent  tribe;  and  meanwhile  their  war 
parties  were  harassing  the  French  of  Canada  with  reiter- 
ated inroads,  and  yellmg  the  war-whoop  under  the  very 
walls  of  Quebec. 

They  were  the  worst  of  conquerors.  Inordinate  pride, 
the  lust  of  blood  and  dominion,  W(  re  the  mainsprings  of 
then-  warfare ;  and  their  victories  were  stained  with  every 
excess  of  savage  passion.  That  their  triumphs  must  have 
cost  them  dear;  that,  in  spite  of  their  cautious  tactics, 
these  multiplied  conflicts  must  have  greatly  abridged 
their  strength,  would  appear  inevitable.  Then-  losses 
were,  in  fact,  considerable  ;  but  every  breach  was  repaired 
by  means  of  a  practice  which  they,  in  common  with  other 
tribes,  constantly  adhered  to.  When  their  vengeance  was 
glutted  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  sufficient  number  of  captives, 
they  spared  the  lives  of  the  remainder,  and  adopted  them 
as  members  of  their  confederated  tribes,  separating  wives 
from  husbands,  and  children  from  parents,  and  distribu- 
ting them  among  different  villages,  in  order  that  old  ties 
and  associations  might  be  more  completely  broken  up. 
This  policy,  as  Schoolcraft  informs  us,  was  designated 
among  them  by  a  name  which  signifies  "  flesh  cut  into 
pieces  and  scattered  among  the  tribes." 

In  the  years  1714-'15,  the  confederacy  received  a  great 
accession  of  strength.  South wi-  rds,  about  the  head  waters 
of  the  Rivers  Neuse  and  Tar,  separated  from  their  kindred 
tribes  by  intervening  Algonquin  communities,  dwelt  the 
Tuscaroras,  a  warlike  people  belonging  to  the  generic 
stock  of  the  Iroquois.  The  wrongs  inflicted  by  white  set- 
tlers, and  their  own  undistinguishing  vengeance,  involved 
them  in  a  war  with  the  colonists,  which  resulted  in  their 
defeat  and  expulsion.  They  emigrated  to  the  Five 
Nations,  whose  allies  thev  had  hppn  in  foT'Tnoi-  v^-ot.o  „.;*^t, 
southern  tribes,  and  who  now  gladly  received  them,  admit- 


IROQUOIS  TRIBES-THEIR  CHARACTER.  21 

ting  them,  as  a  sixth  nation,  into  their  confederacy,  and 
assigning  to  their  sachems  a  seat  in  the  councU-house  at 
Onondaga. 

It  is  a  remark  of  Gallatin,  that,  in  their  career  of  con- 
quest, the  Five  Nations  encountered  more  stubborn  resist- 
ance from  the  tribes  of  their  own  family,  than  from  those 
of  a  different  lineage.     In  truth,  all  the  scions  of  this  war- 
like stock  seem  endued  with  singular  vitality  and  force, 
and  among  them  we  must  seek  for  the  best  type  of  the 
Indian  character.     Few  tribes  could  match  them  in  prow- 
ess   and    constancy,  in    moral   energy    and  intellectual 
vigor.    The  Jesuits  remarked  that  they  were  more  intel- 
ligent, yet  less  tractable,  than  other  savages ;  and  Charle- 
voix observes  that,  though  the  Algonquins  were  readily 
converted,  they  made  but  fickle  proselytes ;  while   the 
Hurons,  though  not  easily  won  over  to  the  church,  were 
far  more  faithful  in  their  adherence.    Of  this  tribe,  the 
Hurons  or  Wyandots,  a  candid  and  experienced  observer 
declares,  that  of  all  the  Indians  with  whom  he  was  con- 
versant,  they  alone  held  it  disgraceful  to  turn  from  the 
face  of  an  enemy  when  the  fortunes  of  the  fight  were 
adverse. 

Besides  these  inherent  qualities,  the  tribes  of  the  Iro- 
quois race  derived  great  advantages  from  their  superior 
social  organization.     They  were  all,  more  or  less,  tillers 
ot  the  soil,  and  were  thus  enabled  to  concentrate  a  more 
numerous  population  than  the  scattered  tribes  who  live 
by  the  chase  alone.     In  their  well-peopled  and  well-con- 
structed villages,  they  dwelt  together  the  greater  part  of 
the  y  ;ar ;  and  thence  the  religious  rites  and  social  and 
political  usages,  which  elsewhere  existed  only  in  the  germ 
attained  among  them  a  full  and  perfect  development! 
iet  these  advantages  were  not  without  alloy,  and  the 
Jesuits  were  not  slow  to  remark  that  the  stationary  and 
thriving  Iroquois  were  more  loose  in  their  observance  of 
social  ties,  than  the  wandering  and  starving  aavR0-PH  nf  the 
north.  ^        '         "^ 


I 


If  ,;miI 


m 


iffliiji 


22 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


THE  ALGONQUIN    FAMILY. 


Except  the  detached  nation  of  the  Tuscaroras,  and  a 
few  smaller  tribes  adhering  to  them,  the  Iroquois  family- 
were  confined  to  the  region  south  of  the  Lakes  Erie  and 
Ontario,  and  the  peninsula  east  of  Lake  Huron.     They 
formed,  as  it  were,  an  island  in  the  vast  expanse  of  Algon- 
quin  population,  extending  from  Hudson's  Bay  on  the 
north  to  the  Caroliiias  on  the  south  ;  from  the  Atlantic  on 
the  east  to  the  Mississippi  and  Lake  Winnipeg  on  the 
west.      They    were    Algonquins  who    greeted  Jacques 
Cartier,  as  his   ships  ascended  the  St.  Lawrence.     The 
first  British  colonists   found  savages  of  the  same  race 
hunting  and  fishing  along  the  coasts  and  inlets  of  Virginia ; 
and  it  was  the  daughter  of  an  Algonquin  chief  who  in- 
terceded with  her  father  for  the  life  of  the  adventurous 
Englishman.     They   were   Algonquins  who,  under  Sas- 
sacus  the   Pequot,   and   Philip  of  Mount  Hope,  waged 
deadly  war  against  the  Puritans  of  New  England ;  who 
dwelt  at  Penacook  under  the  rule  of  the  great  magician, 
Passaconaway,  and  trembled  before  the  evil  spirits  of  the 
Crystal  Hills ;  and  who  sang  aves  and  told  their  beads  in 
the  forest  chapel  of  Father  Rasles,  by  the  banks  of  the 
Kennebec.     They  were  Algonquins  who,  under  the  great 
tree  at  Kensington,  made   the  covenant  of  peace  with 
William  Penn  ;  and  when  Frerxch  Jesuits  and  fur- traders 
explored  the  Wabash  and  the  Ohio,  they  found  their 
valleys  tenanted  by  the  same  far-extended  race.    At  the 
present  day,  the  traveller,  perchance,  may  find  them  pitch- 
ing their  bark  lodges  along  the  beach  at  Mackinaw,  spear- 
ing fish  among  the  boiling  rapids  of  St.  Mary's,  or  skim- 
ming the  waves  of  Lake  Superior  in  their  birch  canoes. 

Of  all  the  members  of  the  Algonquin  family,  those 
called  by  the  English  the  Delawares,  by  the  French  the 
Loups,  and  by  themselves  Lenni  Lenape,  or  Original  Men, 
hold  the  first  claim  to  attention  ;  for  their  traditions  de- 
clare them  to  be  the  parent  seem  whence  other  Algonquin 
tribes  have  sprung.    The  latter  recognized  the  claim,  and 


THE  LENNI  LENAPE. 


23 


at  all  solemn  councils,  accorded  to  the  ancestral  tribe  the 
title  of  Grandfather.* 

The  first  European  colonists  found  the  conical  lodges 
of  the  Lenape  clustered  in  frequent  groups  about  the 
waters  of  the  Delaware  and  its  tributary  streams,  within 
the  present  hmits  of  New  Jersey  and  Eastern  Pennsyl^ 
yania.  The  nation  was  separated  into  three  divisions,  and 
three  sachems  formed  a  triumvirate,  who,  with  the  council 
of  old  men,  regulated  all  its  affairs.  Thev  were,  in  some 
small  measure,  an  agricultural  people  ;  but  fishing  and  the 
chase  were  their  chief  dependence,  and  through  a  great 
part  of  the  year  they  were  scattered  abroad,  among  forests 
and  streams,  in  search  of  sustenance. 

When  William  Penn  held  his  far-famed  council  with  the 
sachems  of  the  Lenape,  he  extended  the  hand  of  brother- 
hood to  a  people  as  unwarlike  in  their  habits  as  his  own 
pacific  followers.     This  is  by  no  means  to  be  ascribed  to 
any  mborn  love  of  peace.     The  Lenape  were  then  in  a 
state  of  degradmg  vassalage,  victims  to  the  domineerlnff 
power  of  the  Five  Nations,  who,  that  they  might  drain  to 
the  dregs  the  cup  of  humiliation,  had  forced  them  to 
assume  the  name  of  Women,  and  forego  the  use  of  arms  t 
Dwellmg  under  the  shadow  of  the  tyrannical  confederacy 
they  were  long  unable  to  wipe  out  the  blot ;  but  at  length 
pushed  from  their  ancient  seats  by  the  encroachments  of 
white  men,  and  removed  westward,  partially  beyond  the 

PHJIl^n"''^'^;  ?m1^^^''  P^'^'  °^"  *^«  other  Algonquin  tribes 

Children    Grandchildren,  Nephews,  or  Younger  Brothers    hn? 

hey  confess  the  superiority  of  the  Wyandots^  anfthe  Fiv;  Na 

t\Tl^J  ^' t*"l^  ^^^"^  ^^'^  **"^  ^^  U"«l^«-  They,  in  returl  caU 
the  Lenape  Nephews,  or  more  frequently  Cousins.  '      " 

the  ntl^o' r^  ^f^.  v^  ^^  ^"°^P^  themselves,  and  recorded  with 
Nationrha/^!?  ^^''^'  ^^  Loskieland  Heckewelder.  that  the  F  ve 
cheaZ  ?hf  ^«^^«°\»?r^d  them,  but,  by  a  cunning  artifice,  hid 
cheated  them  into  subjection,  is  wholly  unworthy  of  credit  If 
be  thl  dun'es  !^1T'  ?^lf  P-P'«  -  -"te  and  sLpicirustu^^^^ 
thatXrpirL^d?^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  V^^^L  incredible 


!!i 


24 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


reach  of  their  conquerors,  their  native  spirit  began  to  re- 
vive, and  they  assumed  a  tone  of  unwonted  defiance. 
During  the  Old  French  War  they  resumed  the  use  of 
arms,  and  while  the  Five  Nations  fought  for  the  English, 
they  espoused  the  cause  of  France.     At  the  opening  of  the 
revolution,  they  boldly  asserted  their  freedom  from  the 
yoke  of  their  conquerors  ;  and  a  few  years  after,  the  Five 
Nations  confessed,  at  a  public  council,  that  the  Lenape 
were  no  longer  women,  but  men.     Ever  since  that  period, 
they  have  stood  in  high  repute  for  bravery,  generosity, 
and  all  the  savage  virtues ;  and  the  settlers  of  the  frontier 
have  often  found,  to  their  cost,  that  the  women  of  the 
Iroquois  have  been  transformed  into  a  race  of  formidable 
warriors.     At  the  present  day,  the  small  remnant  settled 
beyond  the  Mississippi  are  among  the  bravest  marauders 
of  the  west.     Tlieir  war-parties  pierce  the  farthest  wilds 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains ;  and  the  prairie  traveller  may 
sometimes  meet  the  Delaware  warrior  returning  from  a 
successful  foray,  a  gaudy  handkerchief  bound  about  his 
brows,  his  snake  locks  fluttering  in  the-wind,  his  rifle  rest- 
ing across  his  saddle-bow,  while  the  tarnished  and  be- 
grimed equipments  of  his  half- wild  horse  bear  witness 
that  the  unscrupulous  rider  has  waylaid  and  plundered 
some  Mexican  cavalier. 

Adjacent  to  the  Lenape  and  associated  with  them  in 
some  of  the  most  momentous  passages  of  their  history, 
dwelt  the  Shawanoes,  the  Chaouanons  of  the  French,  a 
tribe  of  bold,  roving,  and  adventurous  spirit.  Their 
eccentric  wanderings,  their  sudden  appearances  and  dis- 
appearances, perplex  the  antiquary,  and  defy  research ; 
but  from  various  scattered  notices,  we  may  gather  that  at 
an  early  period,  they  occupied  the  valley  of  the  Ohio ; 
that,  becomir.g  embroiled  with  the  Five  Nations,  they 
shared  the  defeat  of  the  Andastes,  and  about  the  year 
1672  fled  to  escape  destruction.  Some  found  an  asylum 
in  the  country  of  the  Lenape,  where  they  lived  tenants  at 
will   of  the   Five    Nations-  ofhpra   qoho-^i^   vofno.^  ,•«   +i>^ 

Carolinas  and  Florida,  where,  true  to  their  native  instincts, 


THE  MIAMIS-THE  ILLINOIS.  95 

they  soon  came  to  blows  with  the  owners  of  the  soil 
Again,  turning  northwards,  they  formed  new  settlements 
in  the  valley  of  the  Ohio,  where  they  were  now  suffered 
to  dwell  m  peace,  and  where,  at  a  later  perici,  they  were 
jomed  by  such  of  their  brethren  as  had  found  refuge 
among  the  Lenape.  * 

Of  the  tribes  which,  single  and  detached,  or  cohering 
in  loose  confederacies,  dwelt  within  the  limit?  of  Lower 
Canada,  Acadia,  aud  New  England,  it  is  needless  to  speak ; 
for  they  offered  no  distinctive  traits  demanding  notice! 
1  assing  the  country  of  the  Lenape  and  the  Shawanoes, 
and  descending  the  Ohio,  the  traveller  would  have  found 
Its  valley  chiefly  occupied  by  two  nations,  the  Miamis  or 
fwightwees,  on  the  Wabash  and  its  branches,  and  the 
Illinois,  who  dwelt  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  river  to 
which  they  have  given  their  name.     Though  never  subiu- 
gated,  as  were  the  Lenape,  both  the  Miamis  and  the  Illinois 
were  reduced  to  the  last  extremity  by  the  repeated  attacks 
of  the  Five  Nations ;  and  the  Illinois,  in  particular,  suf- 
fered  so  much  by  these  and  other  wars,  that  the  popula- 
tion  of  ten  or  twelve  thousand,  ascribed  to  them  by  the 
early  French  writers,  had  dwindled,  during  the  first  quar- 
ter of  the  eighteenth  century,  to  a  i;ew  small  villages. 
According  to  Marest,  they  were  a  people  sunk  in  sloth  and 
licentiousness ;  but  that  priestly  father  had  suffered  much 
at  their  hands,  and  viewed  them  with  a  jaundiced  eye. 
Their  agriculture  was  not  contemptible ;  they  had  perma- 
ment  dwellings  as  well  as  portable  lodges ;  and  though 
wandering  through  many  months  of  the  year  among  their 
broad  prairies  and  forests,  there  were  seasons  when  their 
whole  population  was  gathered,  with  feastings  and  merrv- 
maJ^ings,  within  the  limits  of  their  villages 

Turmng  his  course  northward,  traversing  the  Lakes 
Michigan  and  Superior,  and  skirting  the  western  margin 
of  Lake  Huron,  the  voyager  would  have  found  the  soli- 
tudes of  the  wild  waste  around  him  broken  bv  snatt^r.H 

Ahfnf.f  K^'  ^^1^^^^''  P^tt^^wattamies,  and    Ottawas: 
About  the  bays  and  rivers  west  of  Lake  Michigan,  he  would 


I5  I 


I  il  •■, 


:l^ 


I 


i  IN-Ji 


I"  -''!! 


26 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


have  seen  the  Sacs,  the  Foxes,  and  the  Menomonies ;  and 
penetrating  the  frozen  wilderness  of  the  north,  he  would 
have  been  welcomed  by  the  rude  hospitality  of  the  wander- 
ing Knisteneaux. 

The  Ojibwas,  with  their  kindred,  the  Pottawattamies, 
and  their  friends  the  Ottawas,— the  latter  of  whom  were 
fugitives  from  the  eastward,  whence  they  had  fled  from 
the  wrath  of  the  Iroquois,— were  banded  into  a  sort  of 
confederacy.  In  blood  and  language,  in  manners  and 
character,  they  were  closely  allied.  The  Ojibwas,  by  far 
the  most  numerous  of  the  three,  occupied  the  basin  of 
Lake  Superior,  and  extensive  adjacent  regions.  In  their 
boundaries  the  career  of  Iroquois  conquest  found  at  length 
a  check.  The  fugitive  Wyandots  sought  refuge  in  the 
Ojibwa  hunting-grounds;  and  tradition  relates,  that  at  the 
outlet  of  Lake  Superior,  an  Iroquois  war-party  once  en- 
countered a  disastrous  repulse. 

In  their  mode  of  life,  they  were  far  more  rude  than  the 
Iroquois,  or  even  the  southern  Algonquin  tribes.  The 
totemic  system  is  found  among  them  in  its  most  imperfect 
state.  The  original  clans  have  become  broken  into  frag- 
ments, and  indefinitely  multiplied;  and  many  of  the 
ancient  customs  of  the  institution  are  but  loosely  regarded. 
Agriculture  is  little  known,  and,  through  summer  and 
winter,  they  range  the  wilderness  with  restless  wander- 
ing, now  gorged  to  repletion,  and  now  perishing  with 
want.  In  the  calm  days  of  summer,  the  Ojibwa  fisher- 
man pushes  out  his  birch  canoe  upon  the  great  inland 
ocean  of  the  north ,  and  as  he  gazes  down  into  the  pellu- 
cid depths,  he  seems  like  one  balanced  between  earth  and 
sky.  The  watchful  fish-hawk  circles  obove  his  head; 
and  below,  farther  than  his  line  will  reach,  he  sees  the 
trout  glide  shadowy  and  silent  over  the  glimmering  peb- 
bles. The  little  islands  on  the  verge  of  the  horizon  seem 
now  starting  into  spires,  now  melting  from  the  sight, 
now  shaping  themselves  into  a  thousand  fantastic  forms,' 
with  the  stranere  mirao-p  of  tha  wato^a-  "^^^  ^-  *- — •^-, 
that  the  evU  spirits  of  the  lake  lie  basking  their  serpent 


THE  ALGONQUINS. 


ST 


forms  on  those  unhallowed  shores.  Again,  he  explores 
the  watery  labyrinths  where  the  stream  sweeps  among 
pine-tufted  islands,  or  runs,  black  and  deep,  beneath  the 
shadows  of  moss-bearded  firs;  or  he  lifts  his  canoe  upon 
the  sandy  beach,  and,  while  his  camp-fire  crackles  on  the 
grass  plat,  reclines  beneath  the  trees,  and  smokes  and 
laughs  away  the  sultry  hours,  in  a  lazy  luxurjr  of  enjoy- 

But  when  winter  descends  upon  the  north,  sealing  up 
the  fountains,  fettering  the  streams,  and  turning  the  green- 
robed  forests  to  shivering  nakedness,  then,  bearing  their 
frail  dwellings  on  their   backs,  the  Ojibwa  family  wander 
forth  into  the  wilderness,  cheered  only,  on  their  dreary 
track,  by  the  whistling  of  the  north  wind,  and  the  hungry 
howl  of  wolves.     By  the  banks  of  some  frozen  stream, 
women  and  children,  men  and  dogs,  lie  crouched  together 
around  the  fire.     They  spread   their  benumbed  fingers 
over  the  embers,  while  the  wind  shrieks  through  the  fir- 
trees  like  the  gale  through  the  rigging  of  a  frigate,  and 
the  narrow  concave  of  the  wigwam  .si'urkles  with  the 
trost-work  of  their  congealed  breath.     In  vain  they  beat 
the  magic  drum,  and  call  upon  their  guardian  manitoes ; 
—the  wary  moose  keeps  aloof,  the  bear  lies  close  in  his 
hollow  tree,  and  famine  stares  them  in  fh^i  face.    And  now 
the  hunter  can  fight  no  more  against  the  nipping  cold  and 
blinding  sleet.     Stiff  and  stark,  with  haggard  cheek  and 
shrivelled  lip,  he  lies  among  the  snow-drifts ;  till  with 
tooth  and  claw,  the  famished  wildcat  strives  in  vain  to 
pierce  the  frigid  marble  of  his  limbs.     Such  harsh  school- 
mg  is  thrown  away  on  the  incorrigible  mind  of  the  north- 
ern  Algonquin.     He  lives  in  misery,  as  his  fathers  lived 
before  him.     Still,  in  the  brief  hour  of  plenty  he  forgets 
the  season  of  want ;  and  still  the  sleet  and  the  snow  de- 
scend  upon  his  houseless  head.* 


xaxiUiCK 


See  Tanner.  Lone.  a,nH  TTAnrv      a  ^^r»r^n«{c.^ *rr .j, 

the  accounts  of  the  Jesuit  Le  Jeune  will  show  that  Algonquin 
lite  m  Lower  Canada,  two  hundred  years  ago,  was  essentially 


I    I 

,  ,1 


II I 


28 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


I  have  thus  passed  in  brief  review  the  more  prominent 
of  the  Algonquin  tribes  -.  those  whose  struggles  and  suf- 
fermgs  form  the  theme  of  the  ensuing  History.  In 
speaking  of  the  Iroquois,  some  of  the  distinctive  peculiari- 
ties of  the  Algonquins  have  already  been  hinted  at.  It 
must  be  admitted  that,  in  moral  stability  and  intellectual 
vigor,  they  are  inferior  to  the  former;  though  some  of 
the  most  conspicuous  offspring  of  the  wilderness,  Meta- 
com,  Tecumseh,  and  Pontiac  himself,  boasted  their  blood 
and  language. 

The  fireside  stories  of  every  primitive  people  are  faith- 
ful reflections  of  the  form  and  coloring  of  the  national 
mind ;  and  it  is  no  proof  of  sound  philosophy  to  turn 
with  contempt  from  the   study   of  a  fairy  tale.    The 
legendary  lore   of  the   Iroquois,  black  as  the  midnight 
forests,   awful   in  its  gloomy  strength,   is   but  another 
manifestation  of  that  spirit  of  mastery  which  uprooted 
whole  tribes  from  the  earth,  and  deluged  the  wilderness 
with  blood.    The  traditionary  tales  of  the  Algonquins 
we,  r  a  different  aspect.     The  credulous  circle  around  an 
Ojibwa  lodge-fire  listened  to  wild  recitals  of  necromancy 
and  witchcraft-meh  transformed  to  beasts,  and  beasts 
transformed  to  men,  animated  trees,  and  birds  who  spoke 
with  human  tongue.     They  heard  of  malignant  sorcerers 
dwelling  among  the  lonely  islands  of  spell-bound  lakes  ; 
of  grisly  weendigoes,  and  bloodless  geebi ;  of  evil  mani- 
toes  lurking  in  the  dens  and  fastnesses  of  the  woods-  of 
pygmy  champions,  diminutive  in^  stature,  but  mighty  in 
soul  who,  by  the  potency  of  charm  and  talisman,  subdued 
the  direst  monsters  of  the  waste ;  and  of  heroes,  who,  not 
by  downright  force  and  open  onset,  but  by  subtle  strategy, 
by  trick  or  magic  art,  achieved  marvellous  triumphs  over 
the  brute  force  of  their  assailants.     Sometimes  the  tale 
will  breathe  a  different  spirit,  and  tell  of  orphan  children 
abandoned  in  the  heart  of  a  hideous  wilderness,  beset  with 
fiends  and  cannibals.     Some  enamoured  maiden,  scornful 


the  same  with  Algonquin  life  on  tho  TTnnAr  t.o1.„„  ^.. ._ 

ijlMf.    half  rt^lnf.,..^  '  '       -rsr—     -^^v,-.-.:,     TTitiiiii     tiii; 


lasfc  hair  century. 


V  W 1  ^  1^  «  « 


RELIGIOUS  BELIEF  OF  THE  INDIANS. 


29 


of  earthly  suitors,  plights  her  troth  to  the  graceful  manito 
of  the  grove;  or  bright  aerial  beings,  dwellers  of  the  sky, 
descend  to  tantalize  the  gaze  of  mortals  with  evanescent 
forms  of  loveliness. 

The  mighty  giant,  the  God  of  Thunder,  who  made  his 
home  among  the  caverns,  beneath  the  cataract  of  Niagara, 
was  a  conception  which  the  deep  imagination  of  the 
Iroquois  might  fitly  engender.  The  Algonquins  held  a 
simpler  faith,  and  maintained  that  the  thunder  was  a  bird 
who  built  his  nest  on  the  pinnacle  of  towering  mountains. 
Two  daring  boys  once  scaled  the  height,  and  thrust  sticks 
into  the  eyes  of  the  portentous  nestlings ;  which  hereupon 
flashed  forth  such  wrathful  scintillations,  that  the  sticks 
were  shivered  to  atoms.* 

The  religious  belief  of  the  Algonquins— and  the  remark 
holds  good,  not  of  the  Algonquins  only,  but  of  all  the 
hunting  tribes  of  America— ijs  a  cloudy  bewilderment, 
where  we  seek  in  vain  for  system  or  coherency.  Among 
a  primitive  and  savage  people,  there  were  no  poets  to 
vivify  its  images,  no  priests  to  give  distinctness  and 
harmony  to  its  rites  and  symbols.  To  the  Indian  mind, 
all  nature  was  instinct  with  deity.  A  spirit  was  embodied 
m  every  mountain,  lake,  and  cataract;  every  bird,  beast, 

*  For  Algonquin  legends,  see  Schoolcraft,  in  Algic  Researches 
and  Oneota.  Le  Jeune  early  discovered  these  legends  among  the 
tribes  of  his  mission.  Two  centuries  ago,  among  the  Algonquins 
ot  Lower  Canada,  a  tale  was  related  to  him,  which,  in  its  prin- 
cipal incidents,  is  identical  with  the  story  of  the  "  Boy  who  set 
a  Snare  for  the  Sun,"  recently  found  by  Mr.  Schoolcraft  among 
the  tribes  of  the  Upper  Lakes.  Compare  Relation,  1637,  p.  178 
and  Oneota,  p.  75.  Tiie  coincidence  affords  a  curious  proof  of  the 
antiquity  and  wide  diffusion  of  some  of  these  tales 

The  Dahcotah,  as  well  as  the  Algonquins,  believe  that  the 
thunder  IS  produced  by  a  bird.  A  beautiful  illustration  of  this 
Idea  will  be  found  in  Mrs.  Eastman's  Legends  of  the  Sioux.  An 
Indian  propounded  to  Le  Jeune  a  doctrine  of  his  own.  Accord- 
ing to  his  theory,  the  thunder  is  produced  by  the  eructations  of  a 
monstrous  giant,  who  had  unfortunately  3  wallowed  a  quantity  of 
snakes ;  and  the  latter  falling  to  the  earth,  caused  the  appear- 
.  '  "f  """"o-  ^  •-■"«■*  ""e  pniiosopuie  bxeu  nouveUe  ! ''  ex- 
claimed the  astonished  Jesuit. 


30 


t 


I  j  <•  . 

11^ 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


OT  reptile  every  tree,  shrub,  or  grass-blade,  was  endued 
with  mystic  influence ;  yet  this  untutored  pantheism  did 
not  exclude  the  conception  of  certain  divinities,  of  incon^ 
gruous  and  ever-shifting  attributes.    The  sun,  too,  was  a 
god,  and  the  moon  was  a  goddess.    Conflicting  powers  of 
good  and  evil  divided  the  universe ;  but  if,  before  the 
arrival  of  Europeans,  the  Indian  recognized  the  existence 
of  a  one,  almighty,  self-existent  Being,  the  Great  Spirit, 
the  Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth,  the  belief  was  so  vague 
and  dubious  as  scarcely  to  deserve  the  name.    His  per- 
ceptions of  moral  good   and   evil   were  perplexed  and 
shadowy ;  and  the  belief  in  a  state  of  future  reward  and 
punishment  was  by  no  means  of  universal  prevalence 
^    Of  the  Indian  character,  much  has  been  written  fool- 
ishly, and  credulously  believed.     By  the  rhapsodies  of 
poets,  the  cant  of  pentimentalists,  and  the  extravagance  of 
some  who  should  have  known  better,  a  counterfeit  image 
has  been  tricked  out,  which  might  seek  in  vain  for  its 
likeness  through  every  corner  of  the  habitable  earth ;  an 
image  bearing  no  more  resemblance  to  its  original  than 
the  monarch  of  the  tragedy  and  the  hero  of  the  epic  poem 
bear  to  their  living  prototypes  in  the  palace  and  the  camp. 
The   shadows  of  his  wilderness  home,  and   the   darker 
mantic  of  his  own  inscrutable   reserve,  have   made  the 
Indian  warrior  a  wonder  and  a  mystery.    Yet  to  the  eye 
of  rational  observation  there  is  nothing  unintelligible  in 
him.     He  IS  full,  it  is  true,  of  contradiction.     He  deems 
himself  the  centre  of  greatness  and^  renown ;  his  pride  is 
proof  against  the  fiercest  torments  of  fire  and  steel ;  and 
yet  the  same  man  would  beg  for  a  dram  of  whiskey  or  pick 
up  a  crust  of  bread  thrown  to  him  like  a  dog,  from  the  tent 
door  of  the  traveller.   At  one  moment,  he  is  wary  and  can- 
tiousto  the  verge  of  cowardice  ;  at  the  next,  he  abandons 
himself  to  a  very  insanity  of  recklessness,  and  the  habitual 
self-restraint  which  throws  an  impenetrable  veil  over 
emotion  is  joined  to  the  wild,  impetuous  passions  of  a 
beast  or  a  madman. 


f--«u 


h  inconsistciicies,  strange  as  they  seem  in  our  eyes, 


THE  INDIAN  CHARACTER. 


31 


when  viewed  under  a  novel  aspect,  are  but  the  ordinary- 
incidents  of  humanity.  The  qualities  of  the  mind  are  not 
uniform  in  their  action  through  all  the  relations  of  life. 
With  different  men,  and  different  races  of  men,  pride, 
valor,  prudence,  have  different  forms  of  manifestation, 
and  where  in  one  instance  they  lie  dormant,  in  another 
they  are  keenly  awake.  The  conjunction  of  greatness  and 
littleness,  meanness  and  pride,  is  older  than  the  days  of 
the  patriarchs  ;  and  such  antiquated  phenomena,  displayed 
under  a  new  form  in  the  unreflecting,  undisciplined  mind 
of  a  savage,  call  for  no  special  wonder,  but  should  rather 
be  classed  with  the  other  enigmas  of  the  fathomless 
human  heart.  The  dissecting  knife  of  a  Rochefoucault 
might  lay  bare  matters  of  no  less  curious  observation  in 
the  breast  of  every  man. 

Nature  has  stamped  the  Indian  with  a  hard  and  stern 
physiognomy.  Ambition,  revenge,  envy,  jealousy,  are 
his  ruling  passions ;  and  his  cold  temperament  is  little 
exposed  to  those  effemmate  vices  which  are  the  bane  of 
milder  races.  With  him  revenge  is  an  overpowering 
instinct ;  nay,  more,  it  is  a  point  of  honor  and  a  duty. 
His  pride  sets  all  language  at  defiance.  He  loathes  the 
thought  of  coercion;  and  few  of  his  race  have  ever 
stooped  to  discharge  a  menial  office.  A  wild  love  of 
liberty,  an  utter  intolerance  of  control,  lie  at  the  basis  of 
his  character,  and  fire  his  whole  existence.  Yet,  in  spite 
of  this  haughty  independence,  he  is  a  devout  hero-wor- 
shipper ;  and  high  achievement  in  war  or  policy  touches 
a  chord  to  which  his  nature  never  fails  to  respond.  He 
looks  up  with  admiring  reverence  to  the  sages  and  heroes 
of  his  tribe ;  and  it  is  this  principle,  joined  to  the  respect 
for  age,  which  springs  from  the  patriarchal  element  in  his 
social  system,  which,  beyond  all  others,  contributes  union 
and  harmony  to  the  erratic  members  of  an  Indian  com- 
munity. With  him  the  love  of  glory  kindles  into  a  burning 
passion ;  and  to  allay  its  cravings,  he  will  dare  cold  and 
famine,  fire,  tempest,  torture,  and  death  itself. 

These  generous  traits  are  overcast  by  much  that  is 


1 

.;J 

1 

\  1 

I  % 

f    ' 

i      1 

*  i 

itm 

:    S 

i 

i 

32 


•1 


I  m 


mil 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAO. 


dark,  cod,  and  sinister,  by  sleepless  distrust,  and  rank- 
ling jealousy.    Treacherous  himself,  he  is  always  sus 
picious  of  treaehery  in  others.    Brave  as  he  is,-andfew  o 
mankind  are  braver,-he  will  vent  his  passio^  by  a  seL 
steb  rather  than  an  open  blow.     His  warfare  is  full  o 

batMi  th"«t  •'""'^T/ r''  ••«  "•'^--  ^hes  into 
warrioi^  of  tht  rr'  ^'^"-''bandonment,  with  which  the 
Ztrnf  fh  *'^"'  "^^  ^""»  themselves  into  the 

ranks  of  their  enemies.  In  his  feasts  and  his  drinkine! 
bouts  we  find  none  of  that  robust  and  full-toned  mrth 

IX  'K  n   "'-""^.—a-f  our  barbar"  n 
cestry.     He  is  never  jovial   in  his  cups,   and   maudlin 
sorrow  or  maniacal  rage  is  the  sole  re^sult  oi  hTs  pi 

Over  all  emotion  he  throws  the  veil  of  an  iron  self 
control,  originating,  in  a  peculiar  form  of  pride  Tnd  fos 
tered  by  rigorous  discipline  from  childhood  upward     He" 
s  trained  to  conceal  passion,  and  not  to  subdul  U     C 

S^f  a  vr"'"  "  '"^^  '"''««''  by%he  hackneyed 
figure  of  a  volcano  covered  with  snow;  and  no  man  can 

say  when  or  where  fie  wild-lire  will  burst  forth     TWs 
shallow  self-mastery  serves  to  give  dignity  to  public  de 
liberation,  and  harmony  to  social  life     Wrangl  ng  and 
quarrel  are  strangers  to  an  Indian  dwelling;  and  wMe 
an  assemb  y  of  the  ancient  Gauls  was  garrulous  as  a  con! 
vocation  of  magpies,  a  Roman  senate  might  have  tien  a 
esson  from  the  grave  solemnity  of  an  Indian  council     In 
the  midst  of  his  family  and  friends,'he  hides  aifec  ions 
by  nature  none  of  the  most  tender,  under  a  mask  o  Z' 
coldness;  and  in  the   torturing  flr'es  of  his  e^emy   the 
deflfncT  ^         '  ""^^"tains  to  the  last  his  look  of  grim 

His  intellect  is  as  peculiar  as  his  moral  organization 
Among  a  1  savages,  the  powers  of  perception  preponder- 
ate over  those  of  reason  and  analysis;  but  thl  is  more 
especially  the  case  with  the  Indian.    An  acute  judgrof 

l^^^l'.^'}''^'  "'  .''"<='>  parts  of  it  as  his  experience 
^^>.xc=  iiim  CO  eomprenend ;  keen  to  a  proverb  i^  all  ex- 


THE  INDIAN  CHARACTER. 


33 


ercises  of  war  and  the  chase,  he  seldom  traces  effects  to 
their  causes,  or  follows  out  actions  to  their  remote  results 
Though  a  close  observer  of  external  nature,  he  no  sooner 
attempts  to  account  for  her  phenomena  than  he  involves 
himself  in  the  most  ridiculous  absurdities ;  and  quite  con- 
tent with  these  puerilities,  he  has  not  the  least  desire  to 
push  his  inquiries  further.  His  curiosity,  abundantly 
active  within  its  own  narrow  circle,  is  dead  to  all  things 
else ;  and  to  attempt  rousing  it  from  its  torpor  is  but  a 
bootless  task.  He  seldom  takes  cognizance  of  general 
or  abstract  ideas;  and  his  language  has  scarcely  the 
power  to  express  them,  except  through  the  medium  of 
figures  drawn  from  the  external  world,  and  often  highly 
picturesque  and  forcible.  The  absence  of  reflection  makes 
him  grossly  improvident,  and  unfits  him  for  pursuing 
any  complicated  scheme  of  war  or  policy. 

Some  races  of  men  seem  moulded  in  wax,  soft  and 
melting,  at  once  plastic  and   feeble.     Some  races,  like 
some  metals,  combine  the  greatest  flexibility  with  the 
greatest  strength.     But  the  Indian  is  hewn  out  of  a  rock 
You  cannot  change  the  form  without  destruction  of  the 
substance.     Such,  at  least,  has  too  often  proved  the  case 
Kaces  of  inferior  energy  have  possessed  a  power  of  ex- 
pansion  and  assimilation  to  which  he  is  a  stranger  •  and 
It  is  this  fixed  and  rigid  quality  which  has  proved  his 
ruin     He  will  not  learn  the   arts  of  civilization,  and  he 
and  his  forest  must  perish  together.     The  stern,  unchang - 
mg  features  of  his  mind  excite  our  admiration,  from  their 
very  immutability;  and  we  look  with  deep  interest  on 
the  fate  of  this  irreclaimable  son  of  the  wilderness,  the 
Child  who  will  not  be   weaned  from  the  breast  of  his 
rugged  mother.     And  our  interest  increases  when  we 
aiscern  m  the   unhappy  wanderer,  mingled  among  his 
vices,  the  germs  of  heroic  virtues— a  hand  bountiful  to 
Destow,  as  it  is  rapacious  to  seize,  and,  even  in  extremest 
lamme,  imparting  its  last  morsel  to  a  fellow-sufferer :  a 
ir'r^,rv  f  \'''T^  '''  friendship  as  in  hate,  thinks  it  not 
too  much  to  lay  down  life  for  its  chosen  comrade;  a  soul 


„!i  I 


34 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


true  to  its  own  idea  of  honor,  and  burning  with  an  un- 
quenchable  thirst  for  greatness  and  renown. 

The  imprisoned  lion  in  the  showman's  cage  differs  not 
more  widely  from  the  lord  of  the  desert,  than  the  beg- 
garly  frequenter  of  frontier  garrisons  and  dramshops 
ditters  from  the  proud  denizen  of  the  woods.  It  is  in  his 
native  wilds  alone  that  the  Indian  must  be  seen  .nd 
^Judied.  Thus  to  depict  him  is  the  aim  of  the  ensuing 
History ;  and  if,  from  the  shades  of  rock  and  forest,  the 
savage  features  should  look  too  grimly  forth,  it  is  because 
tne  clouds  of  a  tempestuous  war  have  cast  upon  the  pic- 
ture their  murky  shadows  and  lurid  fires. 


', 


CHAPTER  II. 


FRANCE   AND  ENGLAND   IN  AMERICA. 

The  American  colonies  of  France  and  England  grew 
up  to  maturity  under  widely  different  auspices.  Canada 
the  offspring  of  Church  and  State,  nursed  from  infancy 
m  the  lap  of  power,  its  puny  strength  fed  with  artificial 
stimulants,  its  movements  guided  by  rule  and  discipline 
Its  limbs  trained  to  martial  exercise,  languished,  in  spit^ 
of  all,  from  the  lack  of  vital  sap  and  energy.  The  col 
onies  of  England,  outcast  and  neglected,  but  strong  in 
native  vigor  and  self-confiding  courage,  grew  yet  nTore 
strong  with  conflict  and  with  striving,  and  developed  the 
rugged  proportions  and  unwieldy  strength  of  a  youthful 
giant.  "^ 

In  the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  along  the  coasts 
of  the  Atlantic,  adverse  principles  contended  for  the 
mastery.  Feudalism  stood  arrayed  against  Democracy  • 
Popery  against  Protestantism;  the  sword  against  the 
ploughshare.  The  prost,  the  soldier,  and  the  noble 
ruled  in  Canada.  The  ignorant,  lighthearted  Canadian 
peasant  knew  nothing  and  cf.red  nothing  about  popular 
rights  and  civil  liberties.  Born  to  obey,  he  lived  in  con- 
tented  submission,  without  the  wish  or  the  capacity  for 
self-rule.  Power,  centred  in  the  heart  of  the  system,  left 
the  masses  inert.  The  settlements  along  the  margin  of 
the  St.  LaviTence  were  like  a  far-extended  camp,  where 
an  army  lay  at  rest,  ready  for  the  march  or  the  battle, 
and  where  war  and  adventure,  not  trade  and  tillage, 
seemed  the  chief  aims  of  life.  The  lords  of  the  soil  wpr^ 
noblemen,  for  the  most  part  soldiers,  or  the  sons  of  sol- 
diers,  proud  and  ostentatious,  thriftless  and  poor;  and 

35  ' 


36 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OP  PONTIA  J. 


I'  '! 


the  people  were  their  vassals.  Over  every  cln^ter  of 
small  white  houses  glittered  the  sacred  emblem  uf  the 
cross.  The  Church,  the  convent,  and  the  roadside  shrine 
were  seen  at  every  turn ;  and  in  the  towns  and  villages, 
one  met  each  moment  the  black  robe  of  the  Jesuit,  the 
gray  garb  of  the  Recollet,  and  the  formal  habit  of  the 
Ursuline  nun.  The  names  of  saints,  St.  Joseph,  St. 
Ignatius,  St.  Francis,  were  perpetuated  in  the  capes, 
rivers,  and  islands,  the  forts  and  villages  of  the  land,  and, 
with  every  day,  crowds  of  simple  worshippers  knelt  in 
adoration  before  the  countless  altars  of  the  Roman 
faith. 

If  we  search  the  world  for  the  sharpest  contrast  to 
the  spiritual  and  temporal  vassalage  of  Canada,  we 
shall  find  it  among  her  immediate  neighbors,  the  stern 
Puritans  of  New 'England,  where  the  spirit  of  non- 
conformity was  sublimed  to  a  fiery  essence,  and  where 
the  love  of  liberty  and  the  hatred  of  power  burned 
with  sevenfold  heat.  The  English  colonist,  with  thought- 
ful brow  and  limbs  hardened  with  toil ;  calling  no  man 
master,  yet  bowing  reverently  to  the  law  which  he  him- 
self had  made;  patient  and  laborious,  and  seeking  for  the 
solid  comforts  rather  than  the  ornaments  of  life ;  no  lover 
of  war,  yet,  if  need  were,  fighting  with  a  stubborn,  in- 
domitable courage,  and  then  bending  once  more  with 
steadfast  energy  to  his  farm,  or  his  merchandise,— such  a 
man  might  well  be  deemed  the  very  pith  and  marrow  of  a ' 
commonwealth. 

In  every  quality  of  efficiency  and  strength,  the  Cana- 
dian fell  miserably  below  his  rival ;  but  in  all  that  pleases 
the  eye  and  interests  the  imagination,  he  far  surpassed 
nim.  Buoyant  and  gay,  like  his  ancestry  of  France,  he 
made  the  frozen  wilderness  ring  with  merriment,  an- 
swered the  surly  howling  of  tt  e  pine  forest  with  peals  of 
laughter,  and  warmed  with  revelry  the  groaning  ice  of  the 
St.  Lawrence.  Careless  and  thoughtless,  he  lived  happy 
in  the  midst  of  poverty,  content  if  he  could  but  gain  the 
means  to  flU  his  tobacco  pouch,  and  decorate  the  cap  of 


THE  FRENCH  CANADIANS.  37 

his  mistress  with  a  painted  ribbon.  The  example  of  a 
beggared  nobihty,  who,  proud  and  penniless,  could  only 
assert  their  rank  by  idleness  and  ostentation,  was  not  lost 
upon  him.  A  rightful  heir  to  French  bravery  and  French 
restlessness,  he  had  an  eager  love  of  wandering  and  ad- 
venture; and  this  propensity  found  ample  scope  in  the 
service  of  the  fur-trade,  the  engrossing  occupation  and 
clue  source  of  income  to  the  colony.  When  the  priest 
of  St.  Ann  s  had  shrived  him  of  his  sins ;  when,  after  the 
parting  carousal,  he  embarked  with  his  comrades  in 
the  deep-laden  canoe ;  when  their  oars  kept  time  to  the 
measured  cadence  of  their  song,  and  the  blue,  sunny 
bosom  of  the   Ottawa  opened  before  them;  when  their 

root  Jthr'^^'f  'T^^  *^'  '"^^^y  ^^^"^  ^'^d  black 
rocks  01  the  rapid ;  and  when,  around  their  camp-flre 

they  wasted  half  the  night  with  jests  and  laughter,- then 
the  Canadian  was  in  his  element.  His  footsteps  explored 
the  farthest  hidmg-places  of  the  wilderness.  In  the  even 
mg  dance  his  red  cap  mingled  with  the  scalp-locks  and 
feathers  of  the  Indian  braves ;  or  stretched  on  a  bear-sMn 
by  the  side  of  his  dusky  mistress,  he  watcho,]  the  gambols 
of  h,s  hybrid  offspring,  in  happy  oblivion  of  the  partner 
whom  he  left  unnumbered  leagues  behind 

The  fur  trade  engendered  a  peculiar  class  of  restless 
bush  rangers  more  akin  to  Indians  than  to  whito  men 
Those  who  had  once  felt  the  fascinations  of  the  forest 
were  unfitted  ever  after  for  a  life  of  quiet  labor  and 
with    ns  spirit  the  whole  colony  was  infected.     From 

En  J:r''  "'.  ^'''  ^^^'^  ^^^"^  ^^«^«i«^^l  wars  with  the 
English,    and   repeated    attacks    of    the    Iroquois     the 

S'  r^'  *'^  ^^""*^^  ^^^«  «-^  *^  -  low  eTbTwhUe 
feudal  exactions,  a  ruinous  system  of  monopolv  and  the 

StdTst  f  Tf  r^^^  ^^"^^'  eramped^^Vbr'an^h' 

eLernri!7'f     m  '  ^^  *^''  '"^^  ^*  P"^«*«  ^''^  th^  daring 

less  a^dfnfi  r  ""'"'^'f  '^^''''''^  ^^^^da,  though  sap^ 
less  and  infirm,  spread  forts  and  missions  thr.n..h  oii  .L 

Z'T'  Wilderness.     Feebly  rooted  in  the  son,'"'3ie  thm^t 
out  branches  which  overshadowed  half  Amer^a  ma  J 


38 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


fl        « 


niflcent  object  to  the  eye,  but  one  which  the  first  whirl- 
wind would  prostrate  in  the  dust. 

Such  excursive  enterprise  was  alien  to  the  genius  of 
the  British  colonies.     Daring  activity  was  rife  among 
them,  but  It  did  not  aim  at  the  founding  of  military 
outposts  and  forest  missions.     By  the  force  of  energetic 
mdustry,  their  population  swelled   with  an  unheard-of 
rapidity,  their  wealth  increased  in  a  yet  greater  ratio,  and 
their  promise  of  future   greatness   opened  ^ith   every 
advancing  year^    But  it  was  a  greatness  rather  of  peace 
than  of  war     The  free  institutions,  the  independence  of 
authority,  which  were  the  source  of  their  increase,  were 
adverse  to  that  unity  of  counsel  and  promptitude  of  ac 
tion  which  are  the  soul  of  war.    It  was  far   otherwise 
with   their  military   rival.     France   had  her    Canadian 
forces  well  m  han^.     They  had  but  one  will,  and  that 
was  the  will  of  a  mistress.    Now  here,  now  there,  in 
sharp  and  rapid  onset,  they  could  assail  the  cumbrous 
rnasses  and  unwieldy  strength  of  their  antegonists,  as 
the   king-bird   attacks   the   eagle,  or  the  swordfish  tfie 
Whale.     Between  two  such  combatants  the  strife   must 
needs  be  a  long  one. 

Canada  was  a  true  child  of  the  Church,  baptized  in  in- 
fency  and  faithful  to  the  last.  Champlain,  the  founder  of 
Quebec,  a  man  of  noblfe  spirit,  a  statesman  and  a  soldier 
was  deeply  imbued  ivith  fervid  piety.  «  The  saving  of  a 
soul  he  would  often  say,  "is  worth  more  than  the  con- 
quest  of  an  empire  ;  »  and  to  forward  the  work  of  con- 
version, he  brought  with  him  four  Franciscan  monks  from 
h  ranee.  At  a  later  period,  the  task  of  colonization  would 
have  been  abandoned,  but  for  the  hope  of  casting  the  pure 

Iti  ^'*^  ''"'^'^  *^^  ^^^^™y  ^^«^s  of  heathendom. 

All  France  was  filled  with  the  zeal  of  prosely tism.    Men 
and  women  of  exalted  rank  lent  their  countenance  to  the 

oS  T/\     "^  n  ^"^^""^  '-"  ^^*^"  ^^^y  petitions  were 
offered  for  the  well-being  of  the  mission ;  and  in  the  Holy 

ur.f    '  IZ  "\1'~.  """^^"'  "■  "■^"  ^i^J  proBcrace  aay  and  night 
before  the  shrine,  praying  for  the  conversion  of  Canada. 


RELIGIOUS  ZEAL  OF  CANADA.  89 

In  one  convent,  thirty  nuns  offered  themselves  for  che 
abors  of  the  wilderness ;  and  priests  flocked  in  crowds  to 
the  colony.  The  powers  of  darkness  took  alarm;  and 
when  a  ship,  freighted  with  the  apostles  of  the  faith,  was 
fearfully  tempest-tost  upon  her  voyage,  the  storm  was  as- 
cribed to  the  malice  of  demons,  trembling  for  the  safety 
of  their  ancient  empire.  ^  ^ 

T J^r^K^^T'''^  enthusiasm  was  not  without  its  fruits. 
The  Church  could  pay  back  with  usury  all  that  she  re- 
ceived of  aid  and  encouragement  from  the  temporal  power  • 
and  the  ambition  of  Louis  XIII.  could  not  have  devised  a 
more  efficient  enginery  for  the  accomplishment  of  its 
schemes,  than  that  supplied  by  the  zeal  of  the  devoted 
propagandists.  The  priest  and  the  soldier  went  hand  in 
brstde''''  ''''''''  ^""^  th^Jleurde  lis  were  planted  side 

Foremost  among  the  envoys  of  the  faith  were  the  mem- 
bers  oi  that  singula,  order,  who,  in  another  hemisphere, 
had  already  done  so  much  to  turn  back  the  advancing  tide 
of  religious  freedom,  and  strengthen  the  arm  of  Rome. 
charL'  ^„^7^*V^^«  ^««ig«ed,  '3r  many  years,  the  entire 
charge  of  the  Canadian  missions,  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
i^ranciscans,  early  laborers  in  the  same  barren  field     In 
spired  with  a  self-devoting  zeal  to  snatch  souls  from  per' 
clition,  and  win  new  empires  to  the  cross ;  casting  from 
them  every  hope  of  earthly  pleasure  or  earthly  aggran- 
dizement,  the  Jesuit  fathers  buried  themselves  in  deserts 
ftxcing  death  with  the  courage  of  heroes,  and  endunng  to^: 

rTnW  ""  .^  *^'  T'*^''"^  ^^  "^'^^*y^'«-     Their  stofy    is 
replete  with  marvels-miracles  of  patient  suffering  and 

f^rJrn     1        '^^  ^^^"^  ^™^"^  *^^  ^^^^^^  forests  Of  Aca- 
nntn  if^^  ^"^''''  suow-shocs,  with  somc  Wandering  Algon- 
qmn  horde,  or  crouching  in  the  crowded  hunting-lodge 
naif  stifled  m  the  smoky  den,  and  battling  with  troops  ^^^^ 
famished  dogs  for  the  last  morsel  of  «n«ln..  J    ?lf: 

rTpirof^'m^^'f  .r^^  wading"amo;;ihe  X^ 
rapids  of  the  Ottawa,  toiling  with  his  savage  comrades  to 


40 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


It'' 


drag  the  canoe  against  the  headlong  water.  Again,  radi- 
ant in  the  vestments  of  his  priestly  office,  he  administer^ 
the  siicramental  bread  to  kneeling  crowds  of  plumed  and 
panited  proselytes  in  the  black  forests  of  the  Ilurons ;  or 
beanng  his  life  in  his  hand,  he  carries  his  sacred  mission 
into  the  strongholds  of  the  Iroquois,  like  a  man  who  in- 
vades unarmed  a  den  of  angry  tigers.  Jesuit  explorers 
traced  the  St.  Lawrence  to  its  source,  and  said  masses 
among  the  solitudes  of  Lake  Superior,  where  the  boldest 
fur-trader  scarcely  dared  to  follow.  They  planted  mis- 
sions  at  St.  Mary's  and  at  Michillimackinac ;  and  one  of 
their  fraternity,  the  illustrious  Marquette,  discovered  the 
Mississippi,  and  opened  a  new  theatre  to  the  boundless 
ambition  of  France. 

The  path  of  the  missionary  was  a  thorny  and  a  bloody 
one  ;  and  a  life  of  weary  apostleship  was  often  crowned 
with  a  frightful  martyrdom.  Jean  de  Brebeuf  and  Ga- 
briel Lallemant  preached  the  faith  among  the  villages  of 
the  Hurons,  when  their  terror-stricken  flock  were  over- 
whelmed by  an  irruption  of  the  Iroquois.  The  mission- 
aries might  have  fled ;  but,  true  to  their  sacred  function, 
they  remained  behind  to  aid  the  wounded  and  baptize  the 
dying.  Both  were  made  captive,  and  both  were  doomed 
to  the  flery  torture.  Brebeuf,  a  veteran  soldier  of  the 
cross,  met  his  fate  with  an  undaunted  composure,  which 
amazed  his  murderers.  With  unflinching  constancy  he 
endured  torments  too  horrible  to  he  recorded,  and  died 
calmly  as  a  martyr  of  the  early  church,  or  a  war-chief  of 
the  Mohawks. 

The  slender  frame  of  Lallemant,  a  man  young  in  years 
and  gentle  in  spirit,  was  enveloped  in  blazing  savin-bark. 
Again  and  again  the  fire  was  extinguished;  again  and 
again  it  was  kindled  afresh ;  and  with  such  fiendish  in- 
genuity were  his  torments  protracted,  that  he  lingered  fo. 
seventeen  hours  before  death  came  to  his  relief. 

Isaac  Jogues,  taken  captive  by  the  Iroquois,  was  led 
from  cant/in  to  pnnfr^n    onri  iriii««.£i  f^  „m _--i_-__. 

„  -----     ,    ^i^i.^..    TiiiagC    to    VlililgU,    ciiuuriiig 

tresh  torments  and  indignities  at  every  stage  of  his  prog- 


JESUIT  MISSIONARIES. 


41 


I  bloody 
3rowne(l 
and  Ga- 
lages  of 
?e  over- 
nission- 
Linction, 
>tize  the 
doomed 
of  the 
which 
mcy  he 
id  died 
jhief  of 

n  years 
n-bark. 
in  and 
Lish  in- 
red  fo- 

ms  led 
duriiig 
s  prog- 


ress. Men,  women,  and  children  vied  with  each  other 
in  ingenious  malignity.  Redeemed,  at  length,  by  the 
Immane  exertions  of  a  Dutch  officer,  he  repaired  to  Franr 
where  his  disfigured  person  and  mutilated  hands  told  the 
story  of  his  sufferings.  But  the  promptings  of  a  sleepless 
conscienc(;  urged  him  to  return  and  complete  the  work  he 
had  begun ;  to  illumine  the  moral  darkness  upon  which, 
(luring  the  months  of  his  disastrous  captivity,  he  fondly 
hoped  that  he  had  thrown  some  rays  of  light.  Once  more 
he  bent  his  footsteps  towards  the  scene  of  his  living  mar- 
tyrdom, saddened  with  a  deep  presentiment  that  he  was 
advancing  to  his  death.  Nor  were  his  forebodings  untrue. 
In  a  village  of  the  Mohawks,  the  blow  of  a  tomahawk 
closed  his  mission  and  his  life. 

Such  intrepid  self-devotion  may  well  call  forth  our 
highest  admiration  ;  but  when  we  seek  for  the  results  of 
these  toils  and  sacrifices,  we  shall  seek  in  vain.  Patience 
and  zeal  were  thrown  away  upon  lethargic  minds  and  stub- 
born hearts.  The  reports  ol  the  Jesuits,  it  is  true,  display 
a  copious  list  of  conversions;  but  the  zealous  fathers 
reckoned  the  number  of  conversions  by  the  number  of 
baptisms ;  and,  as  Le  Clercq  observes,  with  no  less  truth 
than  candor,  an  Indian  would  be  baptized  ten  times  a  day 
for  a  pint  of  brandy  or  pound  of  tobacco.  Neither  can 
more  flattering  conclusions  be  drawn  from  the  alacrity 
which  they  showed  to  adorn  their  persons  with  crucifixes 
and  medals.  The  glitter  of  the  trinkets  pleased  the  fancy 
of  the  warrior;  and,  with  the  emblem  of  man's  salvation 
pendent  from  his  neck,  he  was  ofc"  i  at  heart  as  thorough 
heathen  as  when  he  wore  in  its  place  a  necklace  made  of 
the  dried  forefingers  of  his  enemies.  At  the  present  day, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  insignificant  bands  of  converted 
Indians  in  Lower  Canada,  not  a  vestige  of  early  Jesuit  in- 
fluence can  be  found  among  the  tribes.  The  seed  was 
sown  upon  a  rock. 

While  the  church  was  reaping  but  a  scanty  harvest, 
laomvQh  of  France.    The  Jwuit  led  the  vau  of  French 


,w 


42 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


il 


colonization ;  and  at  Detroit,  Michillimackinac,  St.  Mary's, 
Green  Bay,  and  other  outposts  of  the  west,  the  establish- 
ment of  a  mission  was  the  precursor  of  military  occu- 
pancy.    In  other  respects  no  less,  the  labors  of  the  wander- 
ing missionaries    advanced   the  welfare  of  the   colony 
Sagacious  and  keen  of  sight,  with  faculties  stimulated  by 
zeal  and  sharpened  by  peril,  they  made  faithful  report 
of  the  temper  and  movements  of  the  distant  tribes  amon^ 
whom  they  were  distributed.     The  influence  which  they 
often  gained  was  exerted  in  behalf  of  the  government 
under  whose  auspices  their  missions  were  carried  on  ;  and 
they  strenuously  labored  to  win  over  the  tribes  to  the 
French  alliance,  and  alienate  them  from  the  heretic  English 
In  all  things  tliey  approved  themselves  the  stanch  and 
steadfast  auxiliaries  of  the  imperial  power ;  and  the  Mar- 
quis  du  Quesne  observed  of  the  missionary  Picquet,  that 
m  his  single  person  he  was  worth  ten  regiments 

Among  the   English   colonies,  the  pioneers  of  civili- 
zation  were  for  the  most  part  rude,  yet  vigorous  men, 
impelled  to  enterprise  by  native  restlessness,  or  lured  by 
the  hope  of  gain.     Their  range  was  limited,  and  seldom 
extended  far  beyond  the  outskirts  of  the   settlemen   , 
With  Canada  it  was  far  otherwise.     There  was  no  energy 
in  the  bulk  of  her  people.    The  court  and  the  army  sup- 
plied  the  main  springs  of  lier  vital  action,  and  the  hands 
which  planted   the  lilies  of  France  in  the  heart  of  the 
wilderness  had  never  guided  the  ploughshare  or  wielded 
the  spade.     The  love  of  adventure,  .the  ambition  of  new 
discovery,  the  hope  of  military  advancement,  urged  men 
of  place  and  culture  to  embark  on  bold  and  comprehensive 
enterprise.    Many  a  gallant  gentleman,  many  a  nobleman 
of  France  trod  the  black  mould  and  oozy  mosses  of  the 
torest  with  feet  that  had  pressed  the  carpets  of  Versailles 
They  whose  youth  had  passed  in  camps  and  courts  grew 
gray  among  the  wigwams  of  savages ;  and  the  lives  of 
iastine,  Joncaire,  and  Priber*  are  invested  with  all  ^he 
interest  of     mance. 
*  For  au  account  of  Pdber,  see  Adair,  340.    I  have  seen  men- 


LA  SALLE. 


4a 


Conspicuous  in  the  annals  of  Canada  stands  the  mem- 
orable name  of  Robert  Cavalier  de  La  Salle,  the  man  who, 
beyond  all  his  compeers,  contributed  to  expand  the  boun- 
dary of  French  empire  in  the  west.     La  Salle  commanded 
at  Fort  Frontenac,  erected  near  the  outlet  of  Lake  Ontario, 
on  its  northern  shore,  and  then  forming  the  most  advanced 
military  outpost  of  the  colony.     Here   he  dwelt  among 
Indians,  and  half-breeds,  traders,  voyageurs,  bush-rangers, 
and  Franciscan  monks.     He  ruled  his  little  empire  with 
absolute  sway,  enforcing  respect  by  his  energy,  but  of- 
fending many  by  his  rigor.    Here  he  brooded  upon  the 
grand  deign  which  had  long  engaged  his  thoughts.     He 
had  resolved  to  complete  the  achievement  of  Father  Mar- 
quette, to  trace  the  unknown  Mississippi  to  its  mouth,  to 
plant  the  standard  of  his  king  in  the  newly-discovered 
regions,  and  found  colonies  which  should  make  good  the 
sovereignty  of  France  from  the  Frozen  Ocean  to  Mexico. 
Ten  years  of  his  early  life  had  passed  in  connection  with 
the  Jesuits,  and  his  strong  mind  had  hardened  to  iron 
under  the  discipline  of  that  relentless  school.     To  a  sound 
judgment,  and  a  penetrating  sagacity,  he  joined  a  bound- 
less enterprise  and  an  adamantine  constancy  of  purpose. 
But  his  nature  was  stern  and  austere ;  he  was  prone  to 
rule  by  fear  rather  than  by  love ;  he  took  counsel  of  no  man, 
and  chilled  all  who  approached  him  by  his  cold  reserve. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1678,  his  preparations  were 
complete,  and  he  despatched  his  attendants  to  the  banks 
oi  i  he  River  Niagara,  whither  he  soon  followed  in  person. 
Hero  he  erected  a  little  fort  of  palisades,  and  was  the  first 
military  tenant  of  a  spot  destined  to  momentous  con- 
sequence in  future  wars.  Two  leagues  above  the  cataract, 
on  the  western  bank  of  the  river,  he  built  the  first  vessel 
which  ever  explored  the  waters  of  the  upper  lakes.  Her 
name  was  the  Griffin,  and  her  burden  was  sixty  tons.     On 

tion  of  this  man  in  contemporary  provincial  newspapers,  where 
lie  IS  sometimes  spoken  of  as  a  disguised  Jesuit.  Hs  tnnk  im  }ns 
residence  among  the  Cherokees  about  the  year  1736,  and  labored 
to  gain  them  over  to  the  French  interest. 


u 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  seventh  of  August,  1679,  she  began  her  adventurous 
voyage  amid  the  speechless  wonder  of  the  Indians,  who 
stood  amazed  ahke  at  the  unwonted  size  of  the  w^den 
.      canoe  at  the  flash  and  roar  of  the  cannon  from  her  decks 
and  at  the  carved  figure  of  a  griffin,  which,  with  expanded 
wmgs,  sat  crouched  upon  her  prow.     She  bore  on  her 
course  a  ong  the  virgin  waters  of  Lake  Erie,  through  the 
beautiful  wmdmgs  of  the  Detroit,  and  among  the  restless 
b  Hows  of  Lake  Huron,  where  a  furious  tempest  had  well 
nigh  mguifed  her.     La  Salle  pursued  his  voyage  along 
Lake  Michigan  m  birch  canoes,  and,  after  protracted  suf 
iZZV^'''^  famine  and  exposure,   reacheu  its  southern 
extremity  on  the  eighteenth  of  October 

fhf  t^^?^"'  followers  to  the  banks  of  the  river  now  called 
the  St.  Joseph.    Here,  again,  he  built  a  fort ;  and  here,  in 
after  years,  the  Jesuits  placed  a  mission  and  the  govern- 
ment a  garrison,     l^hence   he  pushed  on  into  the  un- 
known  region  of  the  Illinois ;  and  now  dangers  and  dif- 
ficutes  began  to  thicken  about  him.    Lidians  threatened 
hostihty ;  his  men  lost  heart,  clamored,  grew  mutinous 
and  repeatedly  deserted ;  and,  worse  than  all,  nothing  was 
heard  of  the  vessel  which  had  been  sent  back  to  Canada 
for  necessary    supplies.      Weeks   wore   on,   and    doubt 
ripened  into  certainty.     She  had  foundered  among  the 
storms  of  these  wilderness  oceans;  and  her  loss  seemed 
to  involve  the  rum  of  the  enterprise,  since  it  was  vain  to 
proceed  farther  without  the  expected  supplies.    In  this 
disastrous  crisis.  La  Salle  embraced  a  resolution  eminentlv 
characteristic  of  his  intrepid  temper.    Leaving  his  men 
m  charge  of  a  subordinate  at  a  fort  which  he  had  b^Ut 
on  the  River  Hlinois,  he  turned  his  face  again  towards 
Canada      He  traversed  on  foot  twelve  hundred  miles  of 
irozen  forest,  crossing  rivers,  toiling  through  snow-drifts 
wading  ice-encumbered  swamps,  sustaining  life  by  the 
truits  of  the  chase,  and  threatened  day  and  night  bv  lurk- 
ing enemies.    He  gained  his  destination,  and  it  was  only 
to  ^encounter  a  fresh  storm  of  calamities.     His  enemies 
nuu  ueen  ousy  m  iiis  absence;  a  malicious  report  had  gone 


LA  SALLE. 


45 


abroad  that  he  was  dead;  his  creditors  had  seized  his 
property ;  and  the  stores  on  which  he  most  relied  had 
been  wrecked  at  sea,  or  lost  among  the  rapids  of  the  St. 
Lawrence.  Still  he  battled  against  adversity  with  his 
wonted  vigor,  and  in  Count  Frontenac,  the  governor  of 
the  province, — a  spirit  kindred  to  his  own, — he  found  a 
firm  friend.  Every  difficulty  gave  way  before  him ;  and 
with  fresh  supplies  of  men,  stores,  and  ammunition,  he 
again  embarked  for  the  Illinois.  Rounding  the  vast  cir- 
cuit of  the  lakes,  he  reached  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Joseph, 
and  hastened  with  anxious  speed  to  the  fort  where  he 
had  left  his  followers.  The  place  was  empty.  Not  a 
man  remained.  Terrified,  despondent,  and  embroiled  in 
Indian  wars,  they  had  fled  to  seek  peace  and  safety,  he 
knew  not  whither. 

Once  more  the  dauntless  discoverer  turned  back 
towards  Canada.  Once  more  he  stood  before  Count  Fron- 
tenac, and  once  more  bent  all  his  resources  and  all  his 
credit  to  gain  means  for  the  prosecution  of  his  enterprise. 
He  succeeded.  With  his  little  flotilla  of  canoes,  he  left 
his  fort,  at  the  outlet  of  Lake  Ontario,  and  slowly  re- 
traced those  interminable  waters,  and  lines  of  forest- 
bounded  shore,  which  had  grown  drearily  familiar  to  his 
eyes.  Fate  at  length  seemed  tired  of  the  conflict  with  so 
stubborn  an  adversary.  All  went  prosperously  with  the 
voyagers.  They  passed  the  lakes  in  safety ;  they  crossed 
the  rough  portage  to  the  waters  of  the  Illinois ;  they  fol- 
lowed its  winding  channel,  and  descended  the  turbid 
eddies  of  the  Mississippi,  received  with  various  welcome 
by  the  scattered  tribes  who  dwelt  along  its  banks.  Now 
the  waters  grew  bitter  to  the  taste  ;  now  the  trampling 
of  the  surf  was  heard ;  and  now  the  broad  ocean  opened 
upon  their  sight,  and  their  goal  was  won.  On  the  ninth 
of  April,  1682,  with  his  followers  under  arms,  amid  the 
firing  of  musketry,  the  chanting  of  the  Te  Deum,  and 
shouts  of  «  Vive  le  roi,"  La  Salle  took  formal  possession 
of  the  vast  valley  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  name  of  Louis 
the  Great,  King  of  France  and  Navarre. 


rif      I 


46 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


'    ul 


The  first  stage  of  his  enterprise  was  accomplished,  but 
labors  no  less  arduous  remained  behind.    Repairing  to 
the  court  of  France,  he  was  welcomed  with  richly  merited 
favor,  and  soon  set  sail  for  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi, 
with  :\  squadron  of  vessels  amply  freighted  with  men  and 
material  for  the  projected  colony.     But  the  folly  and  ob- 
stinacy of  a    worthless  naval  commander  blighted    his 
fairest  hopes.     The  squadron  missed  the  mouth  of  the 
river ;  and  the  wreck  of  one  of  the  vessels,  and  the  deser- 
tion  of  the  commander,  completed  the  ruin  of  the  expedi- 
tion.    La  Salle  landed,  with  a  band  of  half-famished  fol- 
lowers, on  the  coast  of  Texas ;  and  while  he  was  toiling 
with  untired  energy  for  their  relief,  a  few  vindictive  mis- 
creants conspired  against  him,  and  a  shot  from  a  traitor's 
musket  closed  the  career  of  the  iron-hearted  discoverer. 

It  was  left  with  another  to  complete  the  enterprise  on 
which  he  had  staked  his  life ;  and,  in  the  year  1699,  Le- 
moine  dTberville  planted  the  germ  whence  sprang'  the 
colony  of  Louisiana. 

Years  passed  on.    In  spite  of  a  vicious  plan  of  govern- 
ment, in  spite  of  the  bursting  of  the  ever-memorable  Mis- 
sissippi bubble,  the  new  colony  grew  in  wealth   and 
strength.    And  now  it  remained  for  France  to  unite  the 
two  extremities  of  her  broad  American  domain,  to  extend 
forts  and  settlements  across  the  fertile  solitudes  between 
the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  mouth  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, and  intrench  herself  among  the  forests  which  lie 
west  of  the  Alleghanies,  before  the  swelling  tide  of  Brit- 
ish colonization  could  overflow  those  mountain  barriers. 
At  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  he    mighty  pro- 
ject was  fast  advancing  towards  completion.    The  great 
lakes  and  streams,  the  thoroughfares  of  the  wilderness, 
were  seized  and  guarded  by  a  series  of  posts  distributed 
with  admirable  skill.     A  fort  on  the  strait  of  Niagara 
commanded  the  great  entrance  to   the   whole   interior 
country.     Another  at  Detroit  controlled  the  passage  from 
Lake  Erie  to  the  north.    Annth«r  ni.  Sf.  MQT.^r'c,  /i^^or.,.^^ 
all  hostile  access  to  Lake  Superior.    Another  at  Michilli- 


FRENCH  POSTS  IN  THE  WEST. 


47 


mackinac  secured  the  mouth  of  Lake  Michigan.  A  post 
at  Green  Bay,  and  one  at  St.  Joseph,  guarded  the  two 
routes  to  the  Mississippi,  by  way  of  the  Rivers  Wisconsin 
and  Illinois ;  while  two  posts  on  the  Wabash,  and  one  on 
the  Maumee,  made  France  the  mistress  of  the  great  trad- 
ing highway  from  Lake  Erie  to  the  Ohio.  At  Kaskaskia, 
Cahokia,  and  elsewhere  in  the  Illinois,  little  French  set- 
tlements had  sprung  up  ;  and  as  the  canoe  of  the  voyager 
descended  the  Mississippi,  he  saw,  at  rare  intervals,  along 
its  swampy  margm,  a  few  small  stockade  forts,  half  buried 
amid  the  redundancy  of  forest  vegetation,  until,  as  he 
approached  Natchez,  the  dwellings  of  the  habitans  of 
Louisiana  began  to  appear. 

The  forest  posts  of  France  were  not  exclusively  of  a 
military  character.  Adjacent  to  most  of  them,  one  would 
have  found  a  little  cluster  of  Canadian  dwellings,  whose 
tenants  lived  under  the  protection  of  the  garrison,  and 
obeyed  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  commandant ;  an  author- 
ity which,  however,  was  seldom  exerted  in  a  despotic 
spirit.  In  these  detached  settlements,  there  was  no  prin- 
ciple of  increase.  The  character  of  the  people,  and  of 
the  government  which  ruled  them,  were  alike  unfavor- 
able to  it.  Agriculture  was  neglected  for  the  more  con- 
genial pursuits  of  the  fur  trade,  and  the  restless,  roving 
Canadians,  scattered  abroad  on  their  wild  vocation,  allied 
themselves  to  Indian  women,  and  filled  the  woods  with  a 
mongrel  race  of  bush-rangers. 

Thus  far  secure  in  the  west,  France  next  essayed  to 
gain  foothold  upon  the  sources  of  the  Ohio,  and,  about 
the  year  1748,  the  sagacious  Count  Galissonniere  proposed 
to  bring  over  ten  thousand  peasants  from  France,  and 
plant*  them  in  the  valley  of  that  beautiful  river,  and  on 
the  borders  of  the  lakes.  But  while  at  Quebec,  in  the 
Castle  of  St.  Louis,  soldiers  and  statesmen  were  revolv- 
ing schemes  like  this,  the  slowly-moving  power  of  Eng- 
land bore  on  with  silent  progress  from  the  east.    Already 

the  Mohawk,  and  ascending  the  eastern  slopes  of  the  Al- 


>   T  v: 


48 


THE  COxNSPIRACY  OP  PONTIAC. 


leghanies.     Forests  crashing  to  the  axe,  dark  sDire^  of 
smoke  ascending  from  autumnal  fires,  we  e  heraJrof  the 

^th^L  ^'^""Tl^  wa«  burying  plates  of  lead,  engraved 
with  the  arms  of  France,  the  ploughs  and  axes  of  v'r 

o  h  r  IZTr  ^"'  '"'^^^^"^  '  «--  «tle  on  the 
otner.  The  adverse  powers  were  drawing  near  Th^ 
liour  of  collision  was  at  hand.  ^  ^^® 


CHAPTER  HI. 


THE    FRENCH,  THE    ENGLISH,  AND  THE  INDIANS. 

The  French  colonists  of  Canada  held,  from  the  beffin 
nmg,  a  peculiar  intimacy  of  relation  with  the  Indian 
tribes.     With  the  English  colonists  it  was  far  otherwise  • 
and  the  difference  sprang  from  several  causes     The  fur' 
trade  was  the  life  of  Canada ;  agriculture  and  commerce 
were  the  chief  fountains  of  wealth  to  the  British  pro 
vinces.    The  Romish  zealots  of  Canada  burned  for  the 
conversion  of  the  heathen ;  their  heretic  rivals  were  fired 
with  no  such  ardor.    And  finally,  while  the  ambition  of 
France  grasped  at  empire  over  the  farthest  deserts  of  the 
west,  the  steady  industry  of  the  English  colonist  was 
contented  to  cultivate  and  improve  a  narrow  strip  of  sea 
board.    Thus  it  happened  that  the  farmer  of  Massachu 
setts  and  the  Virginian  planter  were   conversant  with 
only  a  few  bordering  tribes,  while  the  priests  and  emis- 
saries of  France  were  roaming  the  prairies  with  the  buffalo 
hunting  Pawnees,  or  lodging  in  the  winter  cabins  of  the 
j:>ahcotah  ;  and  swarms  of  savages,  whose  uncouth  names 
were  strange  to  English  ears,  descended  yearly  from  the 
north,  to  bring  their  beaver  and  otter  skins  to  the  market 
01  Montreal. 

The  position  of  Canada  invited  intercourse  with  the  in 
tenor,  and  eminently  favored  her  schemes  of  commerce 
and  policy.  The  River  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  chain  of 
the  great  lakes,  opened  a  vast  extent  of  inland  naviga- 
tion ;  while  their  tributary  streams,  interlocking  with  the 
branches  of  the  Mississippi,  afforded  ready  access  to  that 
mighty  river,  and  gave  the  restless  voyager  free  range 
V.VCX  liiiii  tiie  continent,  jiut  these  advantages  were  well 
^  49 


50 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


aia 


mgh  neutralized.  Nature  opened  the  way,  but  a  watch- 
ful and  terrible  enemy  guarded  the  portal.  The  forests 
south  of  Lake  Ontario  gave  harborage  to  the  five  tribes  of 
the  Iroquois,  implacable  foes  of  Canada.  They  waylaid 
her  tradmg  parties,  routed  her  soldiers,  murdered  her 
missionaries,  and  spread  havoc  and  woe  through  all  her 
settlements. 

It  was  an  evil  hour  for  Canada,  when,  on  the  twentv- 
eighth  of  May,  1609,  Samuel  de  Champlain,  impelled  by 
his  own  adventurous  spirit,  departed  from  the  hamlet  of 
(Quebec  to  follow  a  war-party  of  Algonquins  against  their 
hated  enemy,  the  Iroquois.     Ascending   the  Sorel    and 
passing  the  rapids  at  Chambly,  he  embarked  on  the  lake 
which  bears  his  name,  and,  with  two  French  attendants, 
steered  southward,  with  his  savage  associates,  toward  the 
rocky  promontory  of  Ticonderoga.     They  moved  with  all 
the  precaution  of  Indian   warfare ;  when,  at  length   as 
night  was  closing  in,  they  descried  a  band  of  the  Iroquois 
in  their  large  canoes  of  elm  bark  approaching  through  the 
gloom.    Wild  yells  from  either  ..de  announced  the  mu- 
tual discovery.    Both  parties  hastened  to  the  shore,  and 
all  night  long  the  forest  resounded  with  their  discordant 
war-songs  and  fierce  whoops  of  defiance.    Day  dawned 
and  the  fight  began.     Bounding  from  tree   to  tree,  the 
Iroquois  pressed  forward  to  the  attack  ;  but  when  Cham- 
plain  advanced  from  among  the  Algonquins,  and  stood 
full  in  sight  before  them,  with  his  strange  attire,  his  shin- 
ing breastplate,  and  features  unlike  their  own ;  when  they 
saw  the  flash  of  his  arquebuse,  and  beheld  two  of  their 
chiefs  fall  dead,  they  could  not  contain  their  terror  but 
fled  for  shelter  into  the  depths  of  the  wood.    The  Algon- 
quins pursued,  slaying  many  m  the  flight,  and  the  vic- 
tory was  complete. 

Such  was  the  first  collision  between  the  white  men  and 
the  Iroquois ;  and  Champlain  flattered  himself  that  the 
latter  had  learned  for  the  future  to  respect  the  arms  of 

France.    He  was  fatallv  HppaiVp^     tii«  t«^^.,^:^   

ered  from  their  terrors,  but  they  never  forgave  the  injury ; 


THE  IROQUOIS-CHAMPLAIN. 


61 


and  yet  it  would  be  unjust  to  charge  upon  Champlain  the 
origin  of  the  deso^ting  wars  which  were  soon  to  scourge 
the  colony.  The  Indians  of  Canada,  friends  and  neigh- 
bors of  the  French,  had  long  been  harassed  by  inroads  of 
the  fierce  confederates,  and  under  any  circumstances  the 
French  must  soon  have  become  parties  to  the  quarrel 

Whatever  may  have  been  its  origin,  the  war  was  fruit- 
ful of  misery  to  the  youthful  colony.     The  passes  were 
beset  by  ambushed   war-parties.     The  routes  between 
Quebec  and  Montreal  were  watched  with  tigerlike  vigi- 
lance.    Bloodthirsty  warriors  prowled  about  the  outskirts 
of  the  settlements.     Again  and  again  the  miserable  peo- 
pie,  driven  within   the  palisades  of  their  forts,   looked 
forth  upon  wasted  harvests  and  blazing  roofs.      The  Isl- 
and  of  Montreal  was  swept  with  fire  and  steel.    The  fur- 
trade  was  interrupted,  since  for  months  together  all  com- 
munication was  cutoff  with  the  friendly  tribes  of  the 
west      Agriculture  was  checked ;  the  fields  lay  fallow, 
and  frequent  famine  was  the  necessary  result.     The  name 
of  the  Iroquois  became  a  by- word  of  horror  through  the 
colony,  and  to  the  suffering  Canadians  they  seemed  no 
better  than  troops  of  incarnate  fiends.     Revolting  rites 
and  monstrous  superstitions  were  imputed  to  them  ;  and 
among  the  rest,  it  was  currently  believed  that  they  cher- 
ished the  custom  of  immolating  young  children,  burning 
them  with  fire,  and  drinking  the  ashes  mixed  with  water 
to  increase  their  bravery.     Yet  the  wildest  imaginations 
could  scarcely  exceed  the  truth.     At  the  attack  of  Mont- 
real,  they  placed  infants  over  the  embers,  and  forced  the 
wretched  mothers  to  turn  the  spit;    and  those  who  fell 
withm  their  clutches  endured  torments  too  hideous  for 
description.     Their  ferocity  was  equalled  only  by  their 
courage  and  address. 

At  intervals,  the  afflicted  colony  found  respite  from  its 
suffering ;  and  through  the  efforts  of  the  Jesuits,  fair  hopes 
began  to  rise  of  prooitiatinff  thft  tprrihip  ir^  a^  L^ 
time,  the  influence  of  the  priests  availed  so  far,'  that  ^! 
der  their  auspices  a  French  colony  was  formed  in  the  very 


li  ; 


52 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


heart  of  the  rro(iuois  country  ;  but  the  settlers  were  soon 
forced  to  a  precipitate  flight,  and  the  war  broke  out  afresh. 
The  French,  on  their  part,  were  not  idle ;  they  faced  their 
assailants  with  characteristic  gallantry.    Courcelles,  Tracy, 
De  la  Barre,  and  De  Nonville  invaded  by  turns,  with  vari- 
ous success,  the  forest  haunts  of  the  confederates  ;  and  at 
length,  in  the  year  1696,  the  veteran  Count  Frontemu- 
marched  upon  their  cantons  with  all  the  force  of  Canada. 
Stemming  the  surges  of  La  Chine,  sweeping  through  the 
romantic  channels  of  the  Thousand  Islands,  and  over   the 
glimmering  surface  of  Lake  Ontario,  and,  trailing  in  long 
array  up  the  current  of  the  Oswego,  they  disembarked  on 
the  margin  of  the  Lake  of  Onondaga,  and,  startling  the 
woodland  echoes  with   the   unwonted  clangor  of  their 
trumpets,  urged  their  perilous  march  through  the  mazes 
of  the  forest.     Naver  had  those  solitudes  beheld  so  strange 
a  pageantry.     The  Indian  allies,  naked  to  the  waist  and 
horribly  painted,  adorned  with  streaming  scalp-locks  and 
fluttering  plumes,  stole  c       hirg  among  the  thickets,  or 
peered  with  lynx-eyed  visioxi  through  the  labyrinths  of 
foliage.     Scouts  and  forest-rangers  scoured  the  woods  in 
front  and  flank  of  the   marching  columns — men  trained 
among  the  hardships  of  the  fur-trade,  thin,  sinewy,  and 
strong  arrayed  in  wild  costume  of  beaded  moccason,  scarlet 
leggin,  and  frock  of  buckskin,  fantastically  garnished  with 
many-colored  embroidery  of  porcupine.     Then  came  the 
levies  of  the  colony,  in  gray  capotes  and  gaudy  sashes,  and 
the  trained  battalions  from  old  France  in  burnished  cui- 
rass and  head-piece,  veterans  of  European  wars.     Plumed 
cavaliers  were  there,  who  had  followed  the  standards  of 
Conde  or  Turenne,  and  who,  even  in  the  depths  of  a 
wilderness,  scorned  to  lay  aside  the  martial  foppery  which 
bedecked  the  camp  and  court  of  Louis  the  Magnificent. 
The  stern  commander  was  borne  along  upon  a  litter  in 
the  midst,  his   locks  bleached  with  years,  but  his  eye 
kmdling  with  the  quenchless  fire   which,  like  a  furnace. 


u.ui     vras    aiiiiUDt     spciiU        illUS, 


li:! 


beneath   the  sepulchral  arches  of  the  forest,  through 


TRIUMPHS  OF  THE  FRENCH. 


53 


tangled  thicket  and  over  prostrate  trunks,  the  aged 
nobleman  advanced  to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  emptv 
wigwams  and  deserted  maize-flelds. 

Even  the  fierce  courage  of  the  Iroquois  began  to  quail 
before  these  repeated  attacks,  while  the  gradual  growth 
of  the  colony,  and  the  arrival  of  troops  from  France  at 
length  convinced  them  that  they  could  not  destroy  Can- 
ada.     With  the  opening  of  the  eighteenth  century,  their 
rancor  showed  signs  of  abating :  and  in  the  year  1726  by 
(hnt  of  skilful  intrigue,  the  French  succeeded  in  erecting 
a  permanent  military  post  at  the  important  pass  of  Ni- 
Jigara,  within  the  limits  of  the  confederacy.     Meanwhile 
m  spite  of  every   obstacle,   the  power   of  France   had 
rapidly  extended  its  boundaries  in  the  west.     French  in- 
fluence  diffused  itself  through  a  thousand  channels,  among 
distant  tribes,  hostile,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  domineer- 
mg  Iroquois.     Forts,  mission-houses,  and  armed  trading 
stations  secured  the  principal  passes.     Traders,  and  cou- 
reiirs  cles  bois  pushed  their  adventurous  traffic  into  the 
wildest  deserts ;  and  French  guns  and  hatchets,  French 
beads  and  cloth,  French  tobacco  and  brandy,  were  known 
from  where  the  stunted  Esquimaux  burrowed  in  their 
sno'.,    .aves,  to  where  the  Camanches  scoured  the  plains 
ot  the  south  with  their  banditti  cavalry.     Still  this  far- 
extended  commerce  continued  to  advance  westward.    In 
17d8,  La  Verandrye  essayed  to  reach  those  mysterious 
mountains  which,  as  the  Indians  alleged,  lay  beyond  the 
and  deserts  of  the  Missouri  and  the  Saskatchawan.     In- 
dian hostility  defeated  his  enterprise,  but  not  before  he 
had  struck  far  out  into  these  unknown  wilds,  and  formed 
a  line  of  trading  posts,  one  of  which,  Fort  de  la  Reine 
ZnL^r^^\.?^  *^^  Assinniboin,  a  hundred  leagues  be- 
yond Lake  Winnipeg.    At  that  early  period,  France  left 
ner  footsteps  upon  the  dreary  wastes  which  even  now 
have  no  other  tenants  than  the  Indian  buffalo-hunter  or 
the  roving  trapper. 

feeble  rivalry  to  that  of  their  hereditary  foes.    At  an 


1^ 

■^T 

P  P 

!   1         J 

i 

}| 

^.  i 

*" 

i 

64 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


• 
early  period,  favored  by  the  friendship  of  the  Iroquois, 
they  attempted  to  open  a  traffic  witli  the  Algonquin 
tribes  of  the  great  lakes ;  and  in  the  year  1687,  Major, 
McGregory  ascended  with  a  boat-load  of  goods  to  Lake 
Huron,  where  his  appearance  excited  great  commotion, 
and  where  he  was  promptly  seized  and  imprisoned  by  a 
party  of  the  French.     From  this  time  forward,  Uie  Eng- 
lish  fur- trade  languished,  until  the  year  1725,  when  (Gov- 
ernor Burnet,  of  New  York,  established  a  post  on  Lake 
Ontario,  at   the  mouth   of  the  River  Oswego,  wMther, 
lured  by  the  cheapness  and  excellence  of  the  English 
goods,  crowds  of  savages  soon  congregated  from  every 
side,   to    the    unspeakable    annoyance    of    the    French. 
Meanwhile,  a  considerable  commerce  was  springing  up 
with  the  Cherokees  and  other  tribes  of  the  south ;  and 
during  the  first  hal/  of  the  century,  the  people  of  Pennsyl- 
vania began  to  cross  the  Alleghanies,  and  carry  on  a 
lucrative  traffic  with  the  tribes  of  the  Ohio.     In  1749,  La 
Jonquiere,  the  governor  of  Canada,  learned,  to  his  great 
indignation,  that  several   English  traders  had   reached 
Sandusky,  and  were  exerting  a  bad  influence  upon  the 
Indians  of  that  quarter ;  and  two  years  later,  he  caused 
four  of  the  intruders  to  be  seized  near  the  Ohio,  and  sent 
prisoners  to  Canada. 

These  early  efforts  of  the  English,  considerable  as  they 
were,  can  ill  bear  comparison  with  the  vast  extent  of  the 
French  interior  commerce.  In  respect  also  to  missionary 
enterprise,  and  the  political  influence  resulting  from  it, 
the  French  had  every  advantage  over  rivals  whose  zeal 
for  conversion  was  neither  kindled  by  fanaticism  nor 
fostered  by  an  ambitious  government.  Eliot  labored 
within  call  of  Boston,  while  the  heroic  Brebeuf  faced  the 
ghastly  perils  of  the  western  wilderness  ;  and  the  wander- 
ings of  Brainerd  sink  into  insignificance  compared  with 
those  of  the  devoted  Rasles.  Yet,  in  judging  the  relative 
merits  of  the  Romish  and  Protestant  missionaries,  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  while  the  former  contented  them- 
selves with  sprinkling  a  few  drops  of  water  on  the  fore- 


THE  ENGLISH  AND  THE  IROQITOIS.  55 

head  of  the  warlike  proselyte,  tho  latter  sought  to  wean 
him  from  his  barbarism,  and  penetrate  his  savage  heart 
with  the  truths  of  Christianity. 

In  respect,  also,  to  direct  political  influence,  the  ad- 
vantage was  wholly  on  the  side  of  France.     The  English 
colonies,  broken  into  separate  governments,  were  incapa- 
ble of  exercising  a  vigorous  and  consistent  Indian  policy  ; 
and  the  measures  of  one  government  often  clashed  with 
those  of  another.     Even  in  the  separate  provinces,  the 
popular  nature  of  the  constitution  and  the  quarrels  of 
governors  and  assemblies  were  unfavorable  to  efficient 
action ;  and  thi«  was  more  especially  the  case  in  the  prov- 
ince of  New  York,  where  the  vicinity  of  the  Iroquois 
rendered  strenuous  yet  prudent  measures  of  the  utmost 
importance.      The    powerful    confederates,    hating    the 
French   with   bitter  enmity,  naturally   inclined   to  the 
English  alliance;   and  a  proper  treatment  would  have 
secured  their  firm  and  lasting  friendship.     But,  at  the 
early  periods  of  her  history,  the  assembly  of  New  York 
was  made  up  in  great  measure  of  narrow  minded  men, 
more  eager  to  consult  their  own  petty  immediate  interests 
than  to  pursue  any  far-sighted  scheme  of  public  welfare. 
Other  causes  conspired  to  injure  the  British  interest  iri 
this  quarter.     The  annual  present  sent  from  England  to 
the  Iroquois  was  often  embezzled  by  corrupt  governors 
or  their  favorites.    The  proud  chiefs  were  disgusted  by 
the  cold  and  haughty  bearing  of  the  English  officials,  and 
a  pernicious  custom  prevailed  of  conducting  Indian  ne- 
gotiations through   lie  i  medium  of  the  fur- traders,  a  class 
of  men  held  in  conic    pt  by  the  Iroquois,  and  known 
among  them  by  the  significant  title  of  "  rum-carriers." 
In  short,  through  all  the  counsels  of  the  province,  Indian 
aifairs  were  grossly  and  madly  neglected. 

With  more  or  less  emphasis,  the  sama  remark  holds 
true  of  all  the  other  English  colonies.  With  those  of 
France,  it  was  far  otherwise;  and  this  difference  between 
the  rival  powers  was  naturally  incident  to  their  different 
forms  of  government,  and  different  conditions  of  develop- 


m 


66 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


nient.    France  labored  with  eager  diligence  to  conciliate 
the  Indians  and  win  them  to  espouse  her  cause.     Her 
agents  were  busy  in  every  viPage,  studying  the  language 
of  the  inmates,  complying  with  their  usages,  flattering 
their  prejudices,    caressing  them,    cajoling   them,  and 
whispering  friendly  warnings  in  their  ears  against  the 
wicked  designs  of  the  English.     When  a  party  of  Indian 
chiefs  visited  a  French  fort,  they  were  greeted  with  the 
firing  of  cannon  and  rolling  of  drums  ;  they  were  regaled 
at  the  tables  of  the  officers,  and  bribed  with  medals  and 
decorations,  scarlet  uniforms  and  French  flags.     Far  wiser 
than  their  rivals,  the  French  never  ruffled  the  self-  jom- 
pJ         -,  dignity  of  their  guests,  never  insulted  their  re- 
ligious notions,  nor  ridiculed  their  ancient  customs.     They 
met  the  savage  half-waj ,  and  showed  an  abundant  read- 
iness to  mould  their  own   features   after  his   likeness. 
Count  Frontenac  himself,  plumed  and  painted  like  an  In- 
dian chief,  danced  the  war-dance  and  yelled  the  war-song 
at  the  camp-fires  of  his  delighted  allies.     1 .  would  have 
been  well  had  the  French  been  less  exact  in  their  im- 
itations, for  at  times  they  copied  their  model  with  in- 
famous fidelity,  and  fell  into  excesses  scarcely  credible 
but  for  the  concurrent  testimony  of  their  own  writers. 
F    ntenac  caused  an  Iroquois  prisoner  to  be  burnt  alive 
to  strike   terror  into  his   countrymen;   and  Louvigny, 
French  commandant  at  Michillimackinac,  in  1695,  tortured 
an  Iroquois  ambassador  to  death,  that  he  might  break  off 
a  negotiation  between   that  people  knd  the  Wyandots.* 
Nor  are  these  the  only  well  attested  instances  of  each  ex- 
ecrable inhumanity.     But  if  the  French  were  guilty  of 
these  cruelties  against  their  Indian  enemies,  they  were 

*  La  Hontan,  I.  177.  Potheiie,  Hist.  Am.  Sept.  II.  298,  (Paris, 
1722.)  'V  » 

These  facts  afford  no  ground  for  national  reflections  when  it  is 
recollected  that  while  Iroquois  prisoners  were  tortured  in  the 
wilds  of  Canada,  Elizabeth  Gaunt  was  burned  to  dea+h  at  Ty- 

to  a  political  offwder,  »       ^      ^ 


AMALGAMATION  OF  FRENCH  AND  INDIANS.       57 

no  less  guilty  of  unworthy  compliance  with  the  demands 
of  their  Indian  friends,  in  cases  where  Chr  stianity  and 
civilization  would  have  dictated  a  prompt  refusal.  Even 
the  brave  Montcalm  stained  his  bright  name  by  aban- 
doning the  hapless  defenders  of  Oswego  and  William 
Henry  to  the  tender  mercies  of  an  Indian  mob. 

In  general,  however,  the  Indian  policy  of  the  French 
cannot  be  charged  v/ith  obsequiousness.  Complaisance 
was  tempered  with  dignity.  At  an  early  period,  they 
disc  ned  the  peculiarities  of  the  native  character,  and 
clearly  saw  that,  while,  on  the  one  hand,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  avoid  giving  offence,  it  was  not  less  necessary,  on 
the  other,  to  assume  a  bold  demeanor  and  a  show  of 
power ;  to  caress  with  one  hand,  and  grasp  a  drawn  sword 
with  the  other.  Every  crime  against  a  Frenchman  was 
promptly  chastised  by  the  sharp  agency  of  military  law ; 
while  among  the  English,  the  offender  could  only  be 
reached  through  the  medium  of  the  civil  C(  nrts,  whose  de- 
lays, uncertainties,  and  evasions  excited  the  wonder  and 
provoked  the  contempt  of  the  Indians. 

It  was  by  observance  of  the  course  indicated  above— a 
course  highly  judicious  in  a  political  point  of  view,  what- 
ever it  may  have  been  to  the  eye  of  the  moralist— that 
the  French  were  enabled  to  maintain  themselves  in  small 
detached  posts,  far  aloof  from  the  parent  colony  and  en- 
vironed by  barbarous  tribes,  where  an  English  garrison 
would  have  been  cut  off  in  a  twelvemonth.  They  pro- 
fessed to  hold  these  posts,  not  in  their  own  right,  but 
purely  through  the  grace  and  condescension  of  the  sur- 
rounding savages;  and  by  this  conciliating  assurance 
they  sought  to  make  good  their  position,  until,  with  their « 
growing  strength,  conciliation  should  no  more  be  needed. 

In  its  efforts  to  win  the  friendship  and  alliance  of  the 
Indian  tribes,  the  French  government  found  every 
advantage  in  the  peculiar  chnracter  or  its  subjects— that 
pliant  and  plastic  temper  which  fi.  vms  so  marked  a  con- 
trast to  the  stubborn  spirit  of  the  Englishman.  From 
the  beginning,  the  French  showed  a  tendency  to  amal- 


i  } 


68 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


M  m 


Ti  1  'If 


Jihi! 

m 


gamato  with  the  forest  tribes.  "The  manners  of  the 
savages,"  writes  the  Baron  La  Hontan,  "are  perfectly 
agreeable  to  my  palate  ;  "  and  many  a  restless  adventurer, 
of  high  or  low  degree,  might  have  echoed  the  words  of 
the  erratic  soldier.  At  first,  great  hopbs  were  entertained 
that,  by  the  mingling  of  French  and  Indians,  the  latter 
would  be  won  over  to  civilization  and  the  church ;  but 
the  effect  was  precisely  the  reverse;  for,  as  Charlevoix 
observes,  the  savages  did  not  become  French,  but  the 
French  became  savages.  Hundreds  betook  themselves  to 
the  forest,  never  more  to  return.  These  outflowings  of 
French  civilization  were  merged  in  the  waste  of  bar- 
barism, as  a  river  is  lost  in  the  sands  of  the  desert.  The 
wandering  Frenchman  chose  a  wife  or  a  concubine  among 
his  \  idian  friends  ;  and,  in  a  few  generations,  scarcelv  a 
tribe  of  the  west  was  free  from  an  infusion  of  Celtic 
blood.  The  French  empire  in  America  could  exhibit 
among  its  subjects  every  shade  of  color  from  white 
to  red,  every  gradation  of  culture  from  the  highest  civ- 
ilization of  Paris  to  the  rudest  barbarism  of  the  wig- 
wam. 

The  fur-trade  engendered  a  peculiar  class  of  men  known 
by  the  appropriate  name  of  bush-rangers,  or  coureurs  des 
hois,  half-civilized  vagrants,  whose  chief  vocation  was 
conducting  the  canoes  of  the  traders  along  the  lakes  and 
rivers  of  the  interior :  many  of  them,  however,  shaking 
loose  every  tie  of  blood  and  kindred,  identified  themselves 
with  the  Indians,  and  sank  into  utter  barbarism.  In 
many  a  squalid  camp  among  the  plains  and  forests  of  the 
west,  the  traveller  would  have  encountered  men  owning 
the  blood  and  speaking  the  language  of  France,  yet,  m 
their  wild  and  swarthy  visages  and  barbarous  costume, 
seeming  more  akin  to  those  with  whom  they  had  cast 
their  lot.  The  renegade  of  civilization  caught  the  habits 
and  imbibed  the  prejudices  of  his  chosen  associates.  He 
loved  to  decorate  his  long  hair  with  eagle  feathers,  to 

make  his  fap.fi  hidfinHH  wifh  vormilirwn     ni^\\-no.    or^rl    c^^^i-    ^^A 
-  _ ,,i.,,,,„.  vj~^iij.v,  ciii->_i  ouui;,  aiiu. 

to  adorn  his  greasy  hunting  frock  with  horse-hair  fringes. 


ENGLISH  FUR-TRADERS. 


59 


His  dwelling,  if  he  had  one,  was  a  wigwam.  He  lounged 
on  a  bear-skin  while  his  squaw  boiled  his  venison  and 
lighted  his  pipe.  In  hunting,  in  dancing,  in  singing,  in 
taking  a  scalp,  he  rivalled  the  genuine  Indian.  His  mind 
was  tinctured  with  the  superstitions  of  the  forest.  He 
had  faith  in  the  magic  drum  of  the  conjurer ;  he  was  not 
^ure  that  a  thunder  cloud  could  not  be  frightened  away 
by  whistling  at  it  through  the  wing  bone  of  an  eagle ;  he 
carried  the  tail  of  a  rattlesnake  in  his  bullet  pouch  by 
way  of  amulet ;  and  he  placed  implicit  trust  in  the  pro- 
phetic truth  of  his  dreams.  This  class  of  men  is  not  yet 
extinct.  In  the  cheerless  wilds  beyond  the  northern 
lakes,  or  among  the  mountain  solitudes  of  the  distant 
west,  they  may  still  be  found,  unchanged  in  life  and 
character  since  the  day  when  Louis  the  Great  claimed 
sovereignty  over  this  desert  empire. 

The  borders  of  the  English  colonies  displayed  no  such 
phenomena  of  mingling  races ;  for  here  a  thorny  and  im- 
practicable barrier  divided  the  white  man  from  the  red. 
The  English  fur-traders,  and  the  rude  men  in  their  em- 
ploy, showed,  it  is  true,  an  ampl«  alacrity  to  fling  off  the 
restraints  of  civilization;  but  though  they  became  bar- 
barians, they  did  not  become  Indians ;  and  scorn  on  the 
one  side,  and  hatred  on  the  other,  still  marked  the  in- 
tercourse of  the  hostile  races.  With  the  settlers  of  the 
frontier  it  was  much  the  same.  Rude,  fierce,  and  con- 
temptuous, they  daily  encroached  upon  the  hunting- 
grounds  of  the  Indians,  and  then  paid  them  for  the  injury 
with  abuse  and  insult,  curses  and  threats.  Thus  the 
native  population  shrank  back  from  before  the  English, 
as  from  before  an  ad^^ancing  pestilence;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  the  very  heart  of  Canada,  Indian  com- 
munities sprang  up,  cherished  by  the  government,  and 
favored  by  the  easy-tempered  people.  At  Lorette,  at 
Caughnawaga,  at  St.  Francis,  and  elsewhere  withm  the 
province,  large  bands  were  gathered  together,  consisting 
in  part  of  fugitives  from  the  borders  of  the  hated  Eng- 
Ush,  and  aiding,  in  time  of  war,  to  swell  the  forces  of 


I  • 


;  t- 
\  t 
{  t 


60 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  French  in  repeated  forays  against  the  settlements  of 
JNew  York  and  New  England. 

There  was  one  of  the  English  provinces  marked  out 
from  among  its  brethren  by  the  peculiar  character  of  its 
founders,  and  by  the  course  of  conduct  which  was  there 
pursued  towards  the  Indian  tribes.     William  Penn   his 
mind  warmed  with  a  broad  philanthropy,  and  enlightened 
by  liberal  views  of  human  government  and  human  rights 
planted  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware  the  colony  which' 
vivified  by  the  principles  it  embodied,  grew,  with  a  mar- 
vellous rapidity,  into  the  great  commonwealth  of  Pennsyl- 
vania.    Penn's  treatment  of  the  Indians  was  equally  pru- 
dent and  humane,  and  its  results  were  of  high  advantage 
to  the  colony ;  but  these  results  have  been  exaggerated 
and  the  treatment  which  produced  them  made  the  theme 
of  inordinate  praisp.    It  required  no  great  benevolence  to 
urge  the  Quakers  to  deal  kindly  with  their  savage  neigh- 
J)ors.      They  were  bound  in  common  sense  to  propitiate 
them;  since,  by  incurring  their  resentment,  they  would 
involve  themselves  in  the  dilemma  of  submitting  their 
necks  to  the  tomahawk,  or  wielding  the  carnal  weapon, 
m  glaring  defiance  of  their  pacific  principles.     In  paying 
the  Indians  for  the  lands  Avhich  his  colonists  occupied,— 
a  piece  of  justice  which  has  been  greeted  with  a  general 
clamor  of  applause,— Penn,  as  he  himself  confesses,  acted 
on  the  prudent  counsel  of  Compton,  Bishop  of  London 
Nor  IS  there  any  truth  in  the  representations  of  Raynal 
and  other  eulogists  of  the  Quaker  ^legislator,  who  hold 
him  up  to  the  world  as  the  only  European  who  ever  ac- 
quired the  Indian  lands  by  purchase,  instep/i  of  seizing 
them  by  fraud  or  violence.      The  example  of  purchase 
had  been  set  fifty  years  before  by  the  Puritans  of  New 
England ;   and  several  of  the  other  colonies  had  more 
recently  pursued  the  same  just  and  prudent  course. 

With  regard  to  the  alleged  results  of  the  pacific  con- 
duct of  the  Quakers,  our  admiration  will  diminish  on 
closely  viewing  the  circumstances  of  the  case=  The  posu 
tion  of  the  colony  was  a  most  fortunate  one.    HadShe 


THE  QUAKERS  AND  THE  INDIANS. 


61 


Quakers  planted  their  settlement  on  the  banks  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  or  among  the  warlike  tribes  of  New  England, 
it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  their  shaking  of  hands- 

.  and  assurances  of  tender  regard  would  long  have  availed 
to  save  them  from  the  visitations  of  the  scalping-knife. 
But  the  Delawares,  the  people  on  whose  territory  their 
colony  was  planted,  were,  like  themselves,  debarred  the 
use  of  arms.  The  Iroquois  had  conquered  them,  and  re- 
duced them  to  abject  submission,  wringing  from  them  a 
yearly  tribute,  disarming  them,  forcing  them  to  adopt  the 
opprobrious  name  of  women,  and  forego  the  right  of  war. 
The  humbled  Delawares  were  but  too  happy  to  receive 
the  hand  extended  to  them,  and  dwell  in  friendship  with 
their  pacific  neighbors ;  since  to  have  lifted  the  hatchet 
would  have  brought  upon  their  heads  the  vengeance  of 
their  conquerers,  whose  good  will  Penn  had  taken  pains 

.  to  secure.* 

The  sons  of  Penn,  his  successors  in  the  proprietor- 
ship of  the  province,  did  not  evince  the  same  kindly  feel- 
ing towards  the  Indians  which  had  distinguished  their 
father.  Earnest  to  acquire  new  lands,  they  commenced, 
through  their  agents,  a  series  of  unjust  measures,  which 
gradually  alienated  the  attachment  of  the  Indians,  and, 
after  a  peace  of  seventy  years,  produced  a  most  disastrous 
rupture.  The  Quaker  population  of  the  colony  sympa- 
thized in  the  kindness  which  its  founder  had  cherished 
towards  the  benighted  race.  This  feelmg  was 
strengthened  by  years  of  friendly  intercourse ;  and  except 
where  private  interest  was  concerned,  the  Quakers  made 
good  their  reiterated  professions  of  attachment.  Kind- 
ness to  the  Indian  was  the  glory  of  their  sect.  As  years 
wore  on,  this  feeling  was  wonderfully  reenforced  by  the 
influence  of  party  spirit.  The  time  arrived  when 
alienated  by  English  encroachment  on  the  one  hand  and 
French  seduction  on  the  other,   the  Indians  began  to 


*He  paid  twice  for  his  lands?    onno  fr*  fVio  Tr««««i<, 


claimed  them  by  right  of  conquest,  and  once  to  their  occupants, 
the  Delawares. 


I 


62 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


assume  a  threatening  attitude  towards  the  province  ;  and 
many  voices  urged  the  necessity  of  a  resort  to  arms. 
This  measure,  repugnant  alike  to  their  pacific  principles 
and  to  their  love  of  the  Indians,  was  strenuously  opposed 
by  the  Quakers.  Their  affection  for  the  injured  race  was 
now  inflamed  into  a  sort  of  benevolent  fanaticism.  The 
more  rabid  of  the  sect  would  scarcely  confess  that  an 
Indian  could  ever  do  wrong.  In  their  view,  he  was 
always  sinned  against,  always  the  innocent  victim  of 
injury  and  abuse ;  and  in  the  days  of  the  final  rup  are, 
when  the  woods  were  full  of  furious  war-parties,  and  the 
German  and  Irish  settlers  on  the  frontier  were  butchereu 
by  hundreds,  when  the  western  sky  was  darkened  with 
the  smoke  of  buring  settlements,  and  the  wretched  fugi- 
tives were  flying  in  crowds  across  the  Susquehanna,  a 
large  party  among  the  Quakers,  secure  by  their  Philadel- 
phia firesides,  could  not  see  the  necessity  of  waging  even 
a  defensive  war  against  their  favorite  people. 

The  encroachments  on  the  part  of  the  proprietors, 
which  have  been  alluded  to  above,  and  which  many  of 
the  Quakers  viewed  with  disapproval,  consisted  in  the 
fraudulent  interpretation  of  Indian  deeds  of  conveyance, 
and  in  the  granting  out  of  lands  without  any  conveyance 
at  all.  The  most  notorious  of  these  transactions,  and  the 
one  most  lamentable  in  its  results,  was  commenced  in 
the  year  1737,  and  known  by  the  name  oi  the  walking  pur- 
chase. An  old,  forgotten  deed  was  raked  out  of  the  dust 
of  the  previous  century,  a  deed  which  was  in  itself  of 
doubtful  validity,  and  which,  moreover,  had  been  virtually 
cancelled  by  a  subs'^ouent  agreement.  On  this  rotten 
title  the  proprietors  laid  claim  to  a  valuable  tract  of  land 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Delaware.  Its  western  boundary 
was  to  be  defined  by  a  line  drawn  from  a  certain  point 
on  Neshaminey  Creek,  in  a  north-westerly  direction,  as 
far  as  a  man  could  walk  in  a  day  and  a  half.  From  the 
end  of  the  walk,  a  line  drawn  eastward  to  the  River 
Delaware  was  to  form  the  northern  limit  of  the  purchase. 
The  proprietors  sought  out  the  most  active  men  who 


TYRANNY  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


63 


conld  be  heard  of,  and  put  them  in  training  for  the  walk ; 
at  the  same  time  laying  out  a  smooth  road  along  the  in- 
tended couice,  that  no  obstructions  might  mar  their  speed. 
By  this  means  an  incredible  distance  was  accomplished 
within  the  limited  time.  And  now  it  only  remained  to 
adjust  the  northern  boundary.  Instead  of  running  the 
line  directly  to  the  Delaware,  according  to  the  evident 
meaning  of  the  deed,  the  proprietors  inclined  it  so  far  to 
the  north  as  to  form  an  acute  angle  with  the  river,  and 
enclose  many  hundred  thousand  acres  of  valuable  land, 
which  would  otherwise  have  remained  in  the  hands  of 
the  Indians.  The  land  thus  infamously  obtained  lay  in 
the  Forks  of  the  Delaware,  above  Easton,  and  was  then 
occupied  by  a  powerful  branch  of  the  Dela wares,  who,  to 
their  unspeakable  amazement,  now  heard  the  summons 
to  quit  forever  their  populous  village  and  fields  of  half- 
grown  maize.  In  rage  and  distress  they  refused  to  obey, 
and  the  proprietors  were  in  a  perplexing  dilemma.  Force 
was  necessary;  but  a  Quaker  legislature  would  never 
consent  to  fight,  and  especially  to  fight  against  Indians. 
An  expedient  was  hit  upon,  at  once  safe  and  effectual. 
The  Iroquois  were  sent  for.  A  deputation  of  their  chiefs 
appeared  at  Philadelphia,  and  having  been  well  bribed, 
and  deceived  by  false  accounts  of  the  transaction,  they 
consented  to  remove  the  refractory  Delawares.  The  de- 
linquents were  summoned  before  their  conquerors,  and 
the  Iroquois  orator,  Canassatego,  a  man  of  noble  stature 
and  imposing  presence,  looking  with  a  grim  countenance 
on  his  cowering  auditors,  addressed  them  in  the  following 
words : — 

«  You  ought  to  be  taken  by  the  hair  of  the  head  and 
shaken  soundly  till  you  recover  your  senses.  You  don't 
know  what  you  are  doing.  Our  brother  Onas'  *  cause  is 
very  just.  On  the  other  hand,  your  cause  is  bad,  and  you 
are  bent  to  break  the  chain  of  friendship.  How  came 
you  to  take  upon  you  to  sell  land  at  all  ?    We  conquered 

*  Onas  was  thft 
and  his  successors. 


nciTviA     rifyrmirt     V\wv   4>1«a     T- __ 


.  Ji. 


i   t   r 


n 


•i    a 


I"  1 


64 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OP  PONTIAC. 


you ;  we  made  women  of  you ;  you  know  you  are  women 
andean  no  more  sell  land  than  women.    This  land  you 

with  clothes,  meat,  and  drink,  by  the  goods  paid  you  for 
^and  now  you  want  it  again,  like  children  as  you  are. 
What  makes  you  sell  land  in  the  dark?  Did  you  ever 
teU  us  you  had  sold  this  land  ?  Did  we  ever  receive  any 
pait,even  the  value  of  a  pipe-shank,  from  you  for  it? 
We  charge  you  to  remove  instantly  ;  we  don't  dive  vou 

the  advice  of  a  wise  man,  and  remove  immediately     You 
may  return  to  the  other  side  of  Delaware,  where  you 

hrvrh' '"'/'  ""  r  ''""^  ^""'^  -"''Bering 
mXff    .^'''^^     ^'"^"'"*  y«"'-««l^««.  you   will  be  pert 

tw  .    H  i      *'™'  "■  *''"'•'<'■•  y°"  •'"^^  not  swallowed 
tlxat  land  down  your  throats  as  well  as  the  land  on  this 

side^  We  therefore  ^assign  you  two  places  to  go,  either 

to  Wyoming  or  Shamokin.    We  shaJl  then  have  you  more 

under  our  eye,  and  shall  see  how  you  behave.    DonW 

hteraH  but  take  this  belt  of  wampum,  and  go  at  once^' 

The  unhappy  Delawares  dared  not  disobey  this  arbi- 

trary  mandate.    They  left  their  ancient  homes,  and  ri 

moved,  as  they  had  been  ordered,  to  the  Susquehan^t 

where  some  settled  at  Shamokin,  and  some  at  WyoZg 

From  an  early  period,  the  Indians  had  been  annoZ  by 

in  1728,  they  had  bitterly  complained  of  the  wrong     The 

man  and  Irish,  began  to  cross  the  Susquehanna  and  buUd 
their  cabms  along  the  valleys  of  the  Juniata  and  its  tribu 
tary  waters.    The  Delawares  sent  frequent  remonstrlnc"; 
from  their  new  abodes,  and  the  Iroquois  themselve   made 
angry  complaints,  declaring  that  the  lands  of  the  JuZta 
were  theirs  by  right  of  conquest,  and  that  they  had  give^ 
them  to  their  cousms,  the  Delawares,  for  hunting-grounds 
Some  efforts  at  redress   were  made;  but  the^emedv 
proved  ineffectual,  and  the  discontent  of  the  Mans  f/ 
_x ,  ..._  ,^,r^.  ^^^,.^     ^^g  enawanoes,  with  many  of 


POLICY  OF  THE  FRENCH. 


66 


)j 


the  Delawares,  removed  westward,  where,  for  a  time, 
they  would  be  safe  from  intrusion ;  and  by  the  middle  of 
the  century,  the  Delaware  tribe  were  separated  into  two 
divisions,  one  of  which  remained  upon  the  Susquehanna, 
while  the  other,  in  conjunction  with  the  Shawanoes,  dwelt 
on  the  waters  of  the  Alleghany  and  the  Muskingum. 

But  now  the  French  began  to  push  their  advanced 
posts  into  the  valley  of  the  Ohio.  Most  unhappily  for 
the  English  interest,  they  found  the  irritated  minds  of 
the  Indians  in  a  state  which  favored  their  efforts  at  seduc- 
tion, and  held  forth  a  flattering  promise  that  tribes  so 
long  faithful  to  the  English  might  soon  be  won  over  to 
espouse  the  cause  of  France. 

While  the  English  interests  wore  so  inauspicious  an 
aspect  in  this  quarter,  their  prospects  were  not  much 
better  among  the  Iroquois.  Since  the  peace  of  Utrecht, 
in  1713,  these  powerful  tribes  had  so  far  forgotten  their 
old  malevolence  against  the  French,  that  the  latter  were 
enabled  to  bring  all  their  machinery  of  conciliation  to 
bear  upon  them.  They  turned  the  opportunity  to  such 
good  account  as  not  only  to  smooth  away  the  asperity 
of  their  ancient  foes,  but  also  to  rouse  in  their  minds  a 
growing  jealousy  against  the  English.  Several  accidental 
circumstances  did  much  to  aggravate  this  feeling.  The 
Iroquois  were  in  the  habit  of  sending  out  frequent  war- 
parties  against  their  enemies,  the  Cherokees  and  Catawbas 
who  dwelt  near  the  borders  of  Carolina  and  Virginia ;  and 
in  these  forays  the  invaders  often  became  so  seriously 
embroiled  with  the  white  settlers,  that  sharp  frays  took 
place,  and  an  open  war  seemed  likely  to  ensue. 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  the  irritation  of  these 
untoward  accidents  was  allayed ;  and  even  then  enough 
still  remained  in  the  neglect  of  governments,  the  insults 
of  traders,  and  the  haughty  bearing  of  officials,  to  disgust 
the  proud  confederates  with  their  English  allies.  In  the 
^^j"  f  ^'^'^^^  *hey  yielded  but  cold  and  doubtful  aid; 
and  fears  were  entertained  of  their  final  estrangement. 
This  result  became  still  more  imminent,  when,  in  the 
5 


ipw 


66 


III: 


hmw 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


urn 


year  1749,   the  French  priest  Picquet  established  his 
imssion  ui  La  Presentation  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  at  the 
site  of  Ogdensburg.     This  pious  father,  like  the  martial 
churchmen  of  an  earlier  day,  deemed  it  no  scandal  to  ' 
grd  on  earthly  armor  against  the  enemies  of  the  faith 
He  built  a  fort  and  founded  a  settlement ;  he  mustered 
the  Indians  about  him  from  far  and  near,  organized  their 
governments,  and  marshaled  their  war-parties.      From 
.he  crenelled  walls  of  his  mission-house  the  warlike 
apostle  could  look  forth  upon  a  military  colony  of  his 
own  creating,  upon  farms  and  clearings,  white  Canadian 
cabins,  and  the  bark  lodges  of  many  an  Indian  horde 
which  he  had  gathered  under  his  protecting  wing.    A 
chief  object  of  the  settlement  was  to  form  a  barrier  against 
the  English;  but  the  purpose  dearest  to  the  missionary's 
heart  was  to  gain  over  the  Iroquois  to  the  side  of  France  • 
and  in  this  he  succefeded  so  well,  that,  as  a  writer  of  good 
authority  declares,  the  number  of  their  warriors  within 
the  circle  of  his  influence  surpassed  the  whole  remaining 
force  of  the  confederacy.  * 

Thoughtful  men  in  the  English  colonies  saw  with 
anxiety  the  growing  defection  of  the  Iroquois,  and  dreaded 
lest,  in  the  event  of  a  war  with  France,  her  ancient  foes 
might  now  be  found  her  friends.  But  in  this  ominous 
conjecture,  one  strong  influence  was  at  work  to  bind 
the  confederates  to  their  old  alliance ;  and  this  influence 
was  wielded  by  a  man  so  remarkable  in  his  character 
and  so  conspicuous  an  actor  in  the  SQenes  of  the  ensuing 
history,  as  to  demand  at  least  some  passing  notice 

About  the  year  1734,  in  consequence,  it  is  said*  of  the 
hapless  issue  of  a  love  affair,  William  Johnson,  a  young 
Irishman,  came  over  to  America  at  the  age  of  nineteen 
where  he  assumed  the  charge  of  an  extensive  tract  of 
wild  land  m  the  province  of  New  York,  belonging  to  his 

Tl^'  d^f '""^^  ^''*  ^'^''  ^^^^*^^-  S^^^ling  in  the  valley 
ot  the  Mohawk,  he  carried  on  a  prosperous  trafiic  with 
the  Indiansj  and  while  he  rapidly  rose  to  wealth,  he 
gaineu,  at  the  same  time,  an  extraordinary  influence  over 


SIR  WILLIAM  JOHNSON. 


67 


the  neighboring  Iroquois.  As  his  resources  increased,  he 
built  two  mansions  in  the  valley,  known  respectively  by 
tne  names  of  Johnson  Castle  and  Johnson  Hall,  the  latter 
of  which,  a  well-constructed  building  of  wood  and  stone, 
is  still  standing  ii)  the  village  of  Jonnstown.  Johnson 
Castle  was  situated  at  some  distance  higher  up  the  river. 
Both  were  fortified  against  attack,  and  the  latter  was 
surrounded  with  cabins  built  for  the  reception  of  the 
Indians,  who  often  came  in  crowds  to  visit  the  proprietor, 
invading  his  dwelling  at  all  unseasonable  hours,  loitering 
in  the  doorways,  spreading  their  blankets  in  the  passages, 
and  infecting  the  air  with  the  fumes  of  stale  tobacco. 

Johnson  supplied  the  place  of  his  former  love  by  a 
young  Dutch  damsel,  who  bore  him  several  children; 
and,  in  justice  to  the  latter,  he  married  her  upon  her 
death-bed.  Soon  afterwards  he  found  another  favorite  in 
the  person  of  Molly  Brant,  sister  of  the  celebrated  Mohawk 
war-chief,  whose  black  eyes  and  laughing  face  caught  his 
fancy,  as,  fluttering  with  ribbons,  she  galloped  past  him 
at  a  muster  of  the  Tryon  County  militia. 

Johnson's  importance  became  so  conspicuous,  that  when 
the  French  war  broke  out  in  1755,  he  v/as  made  a  major- 
general  ;  and  soon  after,  the  colonial  troops  under  his  com- 
mand gained  the  battle  of  Lake  George  against  the  French 
forces  of  Baron  Dieskau.  For  this  success,  for  which, 
however,  the  commander  was  entitled  to  little  credit,  he 
was  raised  to  the  rank  of  baror.et,  and  rewarded  with  the 
gift  of  five  thousand  pounds  from  the  king.  About  this 
time,  he  was  appointed  superintendent  of  Indian  affairs 
for  the  northern  tribes,  a  station  in  which  he  did  signal 
service  to  the  country.  In  1769,  when  General  Prideaux 
was  killed  by  the  bursting  of  a  cohorn  in  the  trenches  be- 
fore Niagara,  Johnson  succeeded  to  his  command,  routed 
the  French  in  another  pitched  battle,  and  soon  raised  the 
red  cross  of  England  on  the  conquered  rampart  of  the 
fort.  After  the  peace  of  1763,  he  lived  for  many  years  at 
«;ohn3on  Kail,  constantly  enriched  by  the  increasing  value 
of  his  vast  estate,  and  surrounded  by  a  hardy  Highland 


68 


THE  CONSPIRACV  OF  PONTIAC. 


tenantry,  devoted  to  his  interests ;  but  when  the  tempest 

winch  had  long  been  brewing  seemed  at  length  about  to 

break,  and  signs  o{  a  speedy  rupture  with   the  mothor 

country  thickened  with  every  day,  be  stood  wavering  i'. 

an  agony  of  mdecision,  divided  between  his  loyalty  to  tha 

sovereign  who  was  the  source  of  all  his  honors,  and  Ms 

reluctance  to  become  the  agent  of  a  murderous  Indir  • 

warfare  against  his  countrymen  and  friends.    His  final 

resolution  was  never  taken.     In  the  summer  of  1774   he 

was  attacked  with  a  sudden  illness,  and  died  within  a 

tew  hours,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  hurried  to  his 

ofTs  oL"w'"*"^'^  "^' "  '"'"'^  '^''^^^'  ^y  *'•«  -' 

Nature  had  well  fitted  him  for  the  position  in  which  , 

his  propitious  stars  had  cast  his  lot.     His  person  was  fe,ll, 

erect,  and  strong;  hi,  features  grave  and  manly.     His 

direct  and  upright  dealings,  his  courage,  eloquence,  and 

.  address  were  sure  passports  to  favor  in  Indian  eyes.     He 

had  a  singular  facility  of  adaptation.    In  the  camp,  or  at 

the  council-board,  in  spite  of  his  defective  educatbn,  he 

bore  himself  as  became  his  station  ;  but  at  home  he  wa! 

seen  drinking  flip  and  smoking  tobacco  with  the  Duteh 

boors,  his  neighbors,  talking  of  improvements  or  the  price 

ot  ueaver-skins;  and  in  the  Indian  villages  he  would  feast 

on  dog's  flesh  dance  with  the  warriors,  and  haraCehs 

sachem.     His  temper  was  genial ;  he  encouraged  rustic 
Ss        ^"^  ''^^^'^  '"'*  •^'"^"•^  "^^^  ^y  ^^^^^  ""1 

d.wf'^'*"'"'''.' '•  '"''^''''^'■'  '^''"■^  ^"°y«<i  ^i*  serious 
detects     His  mmd  was  as  coarse  as  it  was  vigorous :  he 

was  vam  of  his  rank  and  influence,  and  being  quite  free 

from  any  scruple  of  delicacy,  he  lost  no  op^rtunity  of 

and  n  ™l^v-  ^''  ""^"'^  ^'*«  '^''  and  ambitious ; 
and  m  pushing  his  own  way,  he  was  never  distinguished 
by  an  anxious  solitude  for  the  rights  of  others 

At  the  time  of  which  we  speak,  his  fortunes  had  not 
i-eacnea  tneir  zenith ;  yet  his  influence  was  great,  and 


POSITION  OF  PARTIES.  0g 

during  the  war  of  1745,  when  he  held  the  chief  control  of 
Indian  affairs  in  New  York,  it  was  exercised  m  a  manner 
moat  beneficial  to  the  province.  After  the  peace  of  Aix 
la  Chapelle,  in  1748,  finding  his  measures  ill  supported 
he  threw  up  his  office  in  disgust.  Still  his  mere  personal 
mfluence  sufficed  to  embarrass  the  intrigues  of  the  busy 
priest  at  La  Presentation ;  and  a  few  years  lat«r,  when 
the  public  exigency  demanded  his  utmost  efforts,  he  re- 
sumed, under  better  auspices,  the  official  management  A 
Indian  affairs. 

And  now,  when  the  blindest  could  see  that  bet\         -,he 
rival  claimants  to  the  soil  of  America  nothing  was  left  but 
the  arbitration  of  the  sword,  no  man  friendly  to  the  cause 
of  England  could  observe  without  alarm  how  France  had 
strengthened  herself  in  Indian  alliances.    The  Iroquois 
it  is  true,  had  not  quite  gone  over  to  her  side,  nor  had  the 
Delawares  yet  forgotten  their  ancient  league  with  Wil- 
ham  Penn.    The  Miamis  in  the  valley  of  the  Ohio  had 
even  taken  umbrage  at  the  conduct  of  the  French,  and  be- 
trayed a  leaning  to  the  side  of  England,  while  several 
tribes  of  the  south  showed  a  similar  disposition.     But 
with  few  and  slight  exceptions,  the  numerous  tribes  of 
the  Great  Lakes  and  the  Mississippi,  besides  a  host  of 
domiciliated  savages  in  Canada  itself,  stood  ready  at  the 
bidding  of  France  to  grind  their  tomahawks  and  turn 
loose  their  ravenous  war-parties ;  while  the  British  colo- 
nists had  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  even  those  tribes 
who  seemed  most  friendly  to  their  cause,  and  who  formed 
the  sole  barrier  of  their  unprotected  borders,  might,  at 
the  first  sound  of  the  war-whoop,  be  found  in  arms  agamst 


CHAPTER  IV. 

COLLISION  OF    THE   RIVAL  COLONIES. 

The  people  of  the  northern  English  colonies  had  learned 
to  regard  their  Canadian  neighbors  with  the  bitterest  en- 
mity.   With  them,  the  very  name  of  Canada  called  up 
horrible  recollections  and  ghastly  images ;  the  midnight 
massacre  of  Schenectady,  and  the  desolation  of  many  a 
New  England  hamlet;  blazing  dwellings  and  reeking 
scalps ;  and  children  snatched  from  their  mothers'  arms, 
to  be  immured  in  convents  and  trained  up  in  the  heresies 
of  Popery.     To  the  sons  of  the  Puritans,  their  enemy  was 
doubly  odious.     They  hated  him  as  a  Frenchman,  and 
they  hated  him  as  a  Papist.    Hitherto  he  had  waged  his 
murderous  warfare  from  a  distance,  wasting  their  settle- 
ments with  rapid  onsets,  fierce  and  transient  as  a  summer 
storm;  but  now,  with  enterprising  audacity,  he  was  in- 
trenching himself  on  their  very  borders.     The  English 
hunter,  in  the  lonely  wiMerness  of  Vermont,  as  by  the 
warm  glow  of  sunset  he  piled  the  spruce  boughs  for  his 
woodland  bed,  started  as  a  deep,  low  sound  struck  faintly 
on  his  ear,  the  evening  gun  of  Fort  Frederic,  booming 
over  lake  and  forest.    The  erection  of  this  fort,  better 
known  among  the  English  as  Crown  Point,  was  a  piece 
of  daring  encroachment  which  justly  kindled  resentment 
in  the  northern  colonies.     But  it  was  not  here  that  the 
immediate  occasion  of  a  final  rupture  was  to  arise.    By 
an  article  of  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  confirmed  by  that  of 
Aix  la  Chapelle,  Acadia  had  been  ceded  to  England ;  but 
scarcely  was  the  latter  treaty  signed,  when  debates  sprang 
up  touching  the  limits  of  the  ceded  province.    Commis- 
sioners were  named  on  either  side  to  adiust  the  disputed 
70 


MISSION  OF  WASHINGTON.  t^^ 

boundary;  but  the  claims  of  the  rival  powers  proved 
utterly  irreconcilable,  and  all  negotiation  was  fruitless. 
Meantime,  the  French  and  English  forces  in  Acadia  began 
to  assume  a  belligerent  attitude,  and  indulge  rheir  ill  blood 
m  mutual  aggression  and  reprisal.  But  while  this  game 
was  played  on  the  coasts  of  the  Atlantic,  interests  of  far 
greater  moment  were  at  stake  in  the  west. 

The  people  of  the  middle  colcnies,  placed  by  their  local 
position  beyond  reach  of  the  French,  had  heard  with  great 
composure  of  the  sufferings  of  their  New  England  breth- 
ren, and  felt  little  concern  at  a  danger  so  doubtful  and 
remote.     There  were  those  among  them,  however,  who 
with  greater  foresight,  had  been  quick  to  perceive  the' 
ambitious  projects  of  the  French;  and,  as  early  as  1716 
Spotswood,  governor  of  Virginia,  had  urged  the  expe- 
diency of  securing  the  valley  of  the  Ohio  by  a  series  of 
torts  and  settlements.     His  proposal  was  coldly  listened 
to,  and  his  plan  fell  to  the  ground.     The  time  at  length 
was  come  when  the  danger  was  approaching  too  near  to 
be  slighted  longer.     In  1748,  an  association,  called  the 
Ohio  Company,  was  formed,  with  the  view  of  making  set- 
tlements in  the  region  beyond  the  Alleghanies;  and  two 
years  later.  Gist,  the  company's  surveyor,  to  the  great  dis- 
gust of  the  Indians,  carried  chain  and  compass  down  the 
Ohio  as  far  as  the  falls  at  Louisville.     But  so  dilatory  were 
the  Englisn,  that  before  any  effectual  steps  were  taken 
tneir  agile  enemies  appeared  upon  the  scene 

In  the  spring  of  1753,  the  middle  provinces  were  startled 
at  the  tidings  that  French  troops  had  crossed  Lake  Erie 
fortified  themselves  at  the  point  of  Presqu'-Isle,  and  pushed 
forward  to  the  northern  branches  of  the  Ohio.  Upon  this 
Governor  Dinwiddle,  of  Virginia,  resolved  to  despatch  a 
message  requiring  their  removal  from  terr  tories  which 
he  claimed  as  belonging  to  the  British  crown;  and  look- 
nig  about  him  for  the  person  best  qualified  to  act  as  mes- 
senger,  he  made  choice  of  George  Washington,  a  younff 

ir«an  twentv.nnp  vaot-o  r^f  o^«  „^4.,^ j. t     «  ,,      —  ° 

•  •         :,'f  . —  ^-"-"  ^^  "5'^>«'"j«^w*-ui'KCiierai  01  me  Vir- 
ginian militia. 


72 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Washington  departed  on  his  mission,  crossed  the  moun- 
tains, descended  to  the  bleak  and  leafless  valley  of  the 
Ohio,  and  thence  continued  his  journey  up  the  banks  of 
the  Alleghany  until  the  fourth  of  December.     On  that 
day  he  reached  Venango,  an  Indian  town  on  the  Alle- 
ghany, at  the  mouth  of  French  Creek.     Here  was  the  ad- 
vanced post  of  the  French,  and  here,  among  the  Indian 
log-cabins  and  huts  of  bark,  he  saw  their  flag  flying  above 
the  house  of  an  English  trader,  whom  the  military  in- 
truders  had  unceremoniously  ejected.     They  gave  the 
young  envoy  a  hospitable  reception,*  and  referred  him  to 
the  commanding  officer,  whose  headquarters  were  at  Le 
Bceuf,  a  fort  which  they  had  just  erected  on  French  Creek, 
some    distance    above    Venango.     Thither    Washington 
repaired,  and   on  his  arrival  was  received  with  stately 
courtesy  by  the  oflgcer  Legardeur  de  St.  Pierre,  whom  he 
describes   as  an   elderly  gentleman  of  very  soldier-like 
appearance.     To  the  message   of  Dinwiddle,  St.  Pierre 
replied  that  he  would  forward  it  to  the  governor-general 
of  Canada ;  but  that,  in  the  mean  time,  his  orders  were 
to  hold  possession  of  the   country,  and  this  he  should  do 
to  the  best  of  his  ability.     With  this  answer  Washington, 
through  all  the  rigors  of  the  midwinter  forest,  retraced 
his  steps,  with  one  attendant,  to  the  English  borders. 

With  the  first  opening  of  spring,  a  newly-raised  com- 
pany of  Virginian  backwoodsmen,  under  Captain  Trent, 

*"He  invited  us  to  sup  with  them, .and  treated  us  with  the 
greatest  complaisance.  The  wine,  as  they  dosed  themselves 
pretty  plentifnlly  with  it,  soon  banished  the  restraint  wh  ch  at 
first  appeared  in  their  conversation,  and  gave  a  license  t  >  their 
tongues  to  reveal  their  sentiments  more  freely.  I'hey  toid  nit. 
that  it  was  their  absolute  design  to  take  possession  of  the  Ohio, 
and  by  G—d  they  would  do  it ;  for  that,  although  tin  ,  w-ere  sen- 
sible the  English  could  raise  two  men  for  theii  c ,  vet  tl;  'y 
knew  their  motions  were  too  slow  and  dilatory  to  iy:i.  v-en-  any 
undertaking  of  theirs.  They  pretend  to  have  an  .jn  ioubted  vight 
to  the  river  from  a  discovery  made  by  one  La  Salle,  sirtj  ye^rs 
ago ;  and  the  rise  of  this  expedition  is,  to  \>  event  our  fettling 
on  the  river  or  waters  of  it,  as  they  heard  of  some  families  mov- 
ing out  in  order  thereto."— Washington,  Journal. 


DEATH  OF  JUMONVILLE.  7, 

ha-stened  across  the  mountains  and  began  to  build  a  fort 
at  tlie  confluence  of  the  Monongahela  and  Alleehanv 
where  P.ttsburg  now  stands ;  when  suddenly  they  found 
themselves  invested  by  a  host  of  French  and  Indian,  who 
with  sixty  bateaux  and  three  hundred  caaoes,  had  de- 
scended from  Le  Boeuf  and  Venango.    The  English  were 

rl^rthfv  Xrd'^tf '^  '^''  '""''  "^^'"^  quite'unabret 
resist,  they  obeyed  the  summons,  and  withdrew  in  great 

discorafiture  towards  Virginia.  Meanwhile  WashinS 
r  hn'^^d  ""'X  "^  '^^"kwoodsmen,  was  advandngfrom 
the  borders ;  and  hearing  of  Trent's  disaster,  he  resolveu 
to  fortify  himself  on  the  Monong«heu^  aAd  hold  Ms 

poHMm  ^Thf ;•  ™'l!  '"^"^  *^°°P^  "<™'^  arrive  to  su^! 
port  him.    The  French  sent  out  a  scouthig  pavtv  undrr 

M.  Jumonville  with  the  design,  rrobably,  of  watching  his 

burpnsed  them,  as  they  lay  lurking  m  a  roclcy  glen  not 
far  from  his  camp,  killed  the  officer,  and  captured  thl 
whole  detachment.     Learning  that  tke  L„?h  e^t  ^d 
by  tfcs  reverse,  were  about  to  attack  him  in  grkat  fof 4 
he  thought  It  prudent  to  fall  back,  and  retired  fccord  ngly 
to  a  spot  called  the  Great  Meadows,  where  he  had  before 
hrown  up  a  slight  intrenchment.    Here  he  found  iTm! 
self  furiously  assailed  by  nine  hundred  French  and  In 
dians,  commanded  by  a  brother  .f  the  slain  Jumonvi  le" 
From  eleven  m  the  morning  till  eight  at  night,  the  back 
woodsmen,  who  ,vere  half  f..mished  f rom  ^the  faflure  of 

I'lhin^hTi?'"*^''  ""  ^'"^^'•™  defence,  some  5«ng 
within  the  mtrenehment,  and  some  on  the  plain  without 

forms'  'Z7'  ""  '''"'*  ''■'^''  '^  P-' '''    ""d 
terms     Ihey  wre  ace  ,  ed,  and  on  the  following  dav 

Washington  and  his  men  retired  across  the  mZlrnT 
French'       "'"""  *''^'*°'^  remained  in  the  hands  of  the 

prize  which  belonged  to  neither  of  them,  the  unhanpv 
Indians  saw,  with  a-  ,m  and  amazement,   heir  lands  be 
winmg  a  bone  «f  contention  between  rapacious  st"  nit 


74 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


The  first  appearance  of  the  French  on  the  Ohio  excited 
the  wildest  fears  in  the  tribes  of  that  quarter,  among  whom 
were  those  who,  disgusted  by  the  encroachments  of  the 
Pennsylvanians,  had  fled  to  these  remote  retreats  to  escape 
the  intrusions  of  the  white  men.  Scarcely  was  their 
fancied  asylum  gained,  when  they  saw  themselves  invaded 
by  a  host  of  armed  men  from  Canada.  Thus  placed  be- 
tween two  fires,  they  knew  not  which  way  to  turn. 
There  was  no  union  in  their  counsels,  and  they  seemed 
like  a  mob  of  bewildered  children.  Their  native  jealousy 
was  roused  to  its  utmost  pitch.  Many  of  them  thought 
that  the  two  white  nations  had  conspii-ed  to  destroy  them, 
and  then  divide  their  lands.  "  You  and  the  French,"  said 
one  of  them,  a  few  years  afterwards,  to  an  English  emis- 
sary, "  are  like  the  two  edges  of  a  pair  of  shears,  and  we 
are  the  cloth  which  is  cut  to  pieces  between  them." 

The  French  labored  hard  to  conciliate  them,  plying 
them  with  gifts  and  flatteries,  *  and  proclaiming  them- 
selves their  champions  against  the  English.  At  first, 
these  arts  seemed  in  vain,  but  their  effect  soon  began  to 
declare  itself ;  and  this  effect  was  greatly  increased  by  a 
singular  piece  of  infatuation  on  the  part  of  the  proprietors 
of  Pennsylvania.  During  the  summer  of  1754,  delegates 
of  the  several  provinces  met  at  Albany,  in  order  to  con- 
cert measures  of  defence  in  the  war  which  now  seemed 
inevitable.  It  was  at  this  meeting  that  the  memorable 
plan  of  a  union  of  the  colonies  was  brought  upon  the 
carpet ;  a  plan,  the  fate  of  which  wa^  curious  and  signi- 
ficant, for  the  crown  rejected  it  as  giving  too  much  power 

*  Letters  of  Robert  Stobo,  an  English  hostage  at  Fort  du 
Quesne. 

"  Shamokin  Daniel,  wlio  came  with  me,  went  over  to  i«ie  fort 
[du  Quesne]  by  himself,  and  counselled  with  the  governor,  who 
presented  him  with  a  laced  coat  and  hat,  a  blanket,  shirts,  ribbons 
a  new  gun,  powder,  lead,  &c.  When  he  returned,  he  was  quite 
changed,  and  said,  '  See  here,  you  fools,  what  the  1^'rench  have 
given  me,  I  was  in  Philadelphia,  and  never  received  a  farthing  ; ' 
and  (directing  himself  to  me)  said,  '  The  English  ar©  fools,  and 
§o  are  you,' "— Post,  First  jGumal, 


FRENCH  AND  ENGLISH  DIPLOMACY.  75 

to  the  people  and  the  people  as  giving  too  much  power  to 
the  crown     A  councU  was  also  held  with  the  Iroquois 

Tent  toTh.  *«y  T«*7'>'i  but  lukewarm  in  their  atUh^ 
ment  to  the  English,  a  treaty  of  friendship  and  aUiance 
was  concluded  with  their  deputies.*    It  would  have  tem 

rapacity,  the  proprietary  agents  of  Pennsylvania  took 
advantage  of  this  great  assemh'  -e  of  sachemVto  proc^e 

Zbtrhvr""'''!'^''""  ^ts,  including  the  Lds 

mhabited  by  the  very  tribes  w,        ,he  French  were  nt  that- 

moment  striving  to  seduce.    When  they  heard  ZC^^th 
out  their  consent,  their  conquerors  and  tyrants,  the  Iro- 
quois, had  sold  the  soil  from  beneath  their  feet,  thdr  i^dig- 

limit  to  English  encroachment,  many  of  them  from  that 
hour  became  fast  allies  of  the  Trench 

a  Ik,lnw?  ."'i  ^°"<J™  ''^d  Versailles  still  mamtained 
wsn  tnat  their  conflicting  claims  might  be  adiusted  bv 

enHni^"fT*'f-vr' ""*  "^^^  each  disclaimed  the  in! 
tention  of  hostihty,  both  were  hastening  to  prepare  for 
war.    Early  in  1756,  an  English  fleet  sailed  from  Cork 
having  onboard  two  regiments  destined  for  VirgSia  and 

fleet  put  to  sea  from  the  port  of  Brest,  freighted  with 

SiesLtu  an  or  """'^T^^^'^y  <>*  troops  under  6^ 
uieskau,  aj)  officer  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the 
campaigns  of  Marshal  Saxe.  The  English  fleet  gl^u' 
destination,  and  landed  its  troops  m  sf fety.  Thfprench 
were  less  fortunate.    Two  of  their  ships,  the  Lys  and  the 

ft^lnd'"""^""?''''^  *«  ^"^^  "«  *e  banks  Xw! 
fomidland;  and  when  the  weather  cleared,  thev  found 
themselves  under  the  guns  of  a  superior  BritSh  force! 


76 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


J 


¥»■ 


belonging  to  the  squadron  of  Admiral  Boscawen,  sent  out 
for  the  express  purpose  of  intercepting  them.  « Are  we 
at  peace  or  war  ?  "  demanded  the  French  commander.  A 
broadside  from  the  Englishman  soon  solved  his  doubts, 
and,  after  a  stout  resistance,  the  French  struck  their 
colors.  News  of  the  capture  caused  great  excitement  in 
England,  but  the  conduct  of  the  aggressors  was  generally 
approved  of ;  and  under  pretence  that  the  French  had 
begun  the  war  by  their  alleged  encroachments  in  America, 
orders  were  issued  for  a  general  attack  upon  their  marine. 
So  successful  were  the  British  cruisers,  that,  before  the 
end  of  the  year,  three  hundred  French  vessels,  and  nearly 
eight  thousand  sailors,  were  captured  and  brought  into 
port.*  The  French,  unable  to  retort  in  kind,  raised  an 
outcry  of  indignation,  and  Mirepoix,  their  ambassador, 
withdrew  from  the  court  of  London. 

Thus  began  that  memorable  war  which,  kindling 
among  the  wild  forests  of  America,  scattered  its  fires  over 
the  kingdoms  of  Europe,  and  the  sultry  empire  of  the 
Great  Mogul ;  the  war  made  glorious  by  t!ie  heroic  death 
of  Wolfe,  the  victories  of  Frederic,  and  the  marvellous  ex- 
ploits of  Clive ;  the  war  which  controlled  the  destinies  of 
America,  and  was  first  in  the  chain  of  events  which  led 
on  to  her  revolution,  with  all  its  vast  and  undeveloped 
consequences.  On  the  old  battle-ground  of  Europe,  the 
struggle  bore  the  same  familiar  features  of  violence  and 
horror  which  had  marked  the  strife  of  former  generations 
—fields  ploughed  by  the  cannon  ball,' and  walls  shattered 

*  Smollett,  III.  436. 

"  The  French  inveighed  against  the  capture  of  their  3hips,  be- 
fore any  declaration  of  war,  as  flagrant  acts  of  piracy  ;  and  some 
neutral  powers  of  Europe  seemed  to  consider  them  in  the  same 
point  of  view.  It  was  certainly  high  time  to  check  the  insolence 
of  the  French  by  force  of  arms ;  Knd  surely  this  might  have  been 
as  effectually  and  expeditiously  exerted  under  the  usual  sanction 
of  a  formal  declaration,  the  omission  of  which  exposed  the  ad- 
ministration to  the  censure  of  our  neighbors,  and  fixed  the  impu- 
tation of  fraud  and  freebooting  on  the  beginning  of  the  war."- 
Smollett.  III.  AAi      -        -      --  -         — .        - 


"C^-*— 1 3       TTT 


COLLISION  OF  THE  RIVAL  COLONIES.  77 

by  -he  exploding  mine,  sacked  towns  and  blazing  suburbs 
the  lamentations  of  women,  and  the  licence  of  a  mad' 
dened  soldiery.    But  in  America,  war  assumed  a  new  and 
striking  aspect.    A  wilderness  was  its  sublime  arena 
Army  met  army  under  the  shadows  of  primeval  woods  • 
their  cannon  resounded  over  wastes  unknown  to  civilized 
man.    And^fore  the  hostile  powers  could  join  in  battle, 
endless  forests  must  be  traversed,  and  morasses  passed 
and  everywhere  the  axe  of  the  pioneer  must  hew  a  path 
for  the  bayonet  of  the  soldier. 

Before  the  declaration  of  war,  and  before  the  breaking 
otf  of  negotiations  between  the  courts  of  France  and  Enffl 
land  the  English  ministry  formed  the  plan  of  assailing 
the  French  m  America  on  all  sides  at  once,  and  repelling 
them,  by  one  bold  push,  from  all  their  encroachments 
A  provincial  army  was  to  advance  upon  Acadia,  a  second 
was  to  attack  Crown  Point,  and  a  third  Niagara:  while 
the  two  regiments  which  had  lately  arrived  in  Virginia 
under  General  Braddock,  aided  by  a  strong  body  of  pro- 
vincials, were  to  dislodge  the  French  from  their  newlv- 
built  fort  of  Du  Quesne.     To  Braddock  was  assigned  the 
chief  command  of  all  the  British  forces  in  America  •  and 
a  person  worse  fitted  for  the  office  oould  scarcely  have 
been  found     His  experience  had  been  ample,  and  none 
could  doubt  his  courage  ;  but  he  was  profligate,  arrogant 
perverse,  and  a  bigot  to  mUitaiy  rules.*    On  his  first 

hlJ^'^  !u"T'"u^  '^  ^^""^^^  Walpole's  testimony,  and  writers  of 
better  authority  have  expressed  themselves,  with  less  UveUnJL 
and  piquancy,  to  the  same  effect :-  ^ 

"  Braddock  is  a  very  Iroquois  in  disposition.     He  had  a  sister 

rer:;if'wrtl\TVT  f!"''.  ""^^  ^«^*-«  -'  Bath  hinged 
herself  with  a  truly  Enghsh  deliberation,  leaving  only  a  note 

shoTe  '  &c  m '*' P^^  "f  ^'  '  ^"^  ^'^  ''  ^^"^^^"^  oa  sol  silent 
Fan«;f  T  «i  ^".,^''''^f^^  ^^'*°^d  «^  i^'  ^«  «nly  «aid,  'Poor 
Fanny!  I  always  thought  she  would  be  forced  to  tuck  hers^^ 

Here  follows  a  curious  anecdote  of  Biaddock's  meanness  and 
profligacy,  which  I  omit.  The  next  is  more  to  his  Credit  -  H« 
once  had  a  duel  with  Gnlnnoi  r..,^i.,"T  _.  .  !!  ?f .  ^  ."® 
Who  had  been  his  great  friend;  M^  ^^  ^l^^ 


78 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


'Sm  A 


'IP 


arrival  in  Virginia,  he  called  together  the  governors  of 
the  several  provinces,  in  order  to  explain  his  instructions 
and  adjust  the  details  of  the  projected  operations.  These 
arrangements  complete,  Braddock  advanced  to  the  borders 
of  Virginia,  and  formed  his  camp  at  Fort  Cumberland, 
where  he  spent  several  weeks  in  trianing  the  raw  back- 
woodsmen, who  joined  him,  into  such  discipline  as  they 
seemed  capable  of;  in  collecting  horses  and  wagons, 
which  could  only  be  had  with  the  utmost  difficulty ;  in 
railing  at  the  contractors,  who  scandalously  cheated  him ; 
and  in  venting  his  spleen  by  copious  abuse  of  the  country 
and  the  people.  All  at  length  was  ready,  and  early  in 
June,  1755,  the  army  left  civilization  behind,  and  struck 
into  the  broad  wilderness  as  a  squadron  puts  out  to  sea. 

It  was  no  easy  task  to  force  their  way  over  that  rugged 
ground,  covered  wit^  an  unbroken  growth  of  forest ;  and 
the  difficulty  was  increased  by  the  needless  load  of  bag- 
gage which  encumbered  their  march.  The  crash  of  fall- 
ing trees  resounded  in  the  front,  where  a  hundred  axemen 
labored,  with  ceaseless  toil,  to  hew  a  passage  for  the  army. 
The  horses  strained  their  utmost  strength  to  drag  the 
ponderous  wagons  over  roots  and  stumps,  through  gullies 
and  quagmires ;  and  the  regular  troops  were  daunted  by 
the  depth  and  gloom  of  the  forest  which  hedged  them  in 
on  either  hand,  and  closed  its  leafy  arches  above  their 
heads.  So  tedious  was  their  progress,  that,  by  the  adv^oe 
of  Washington,  twelve  hundred  chosen  men  moved  on  in 
advance  with  the  lighter  baggage  and  artillery,  leaving 
the  rest  of  the  army  to  follow,  by  slower  stages,  with  the 
heavy  wagons.    On  the  eighth  of  July,  the  advanced  body 

Gumley,  who  had  good  humor  and  wit,  (Braddock  had  the  lat- 
ter,) said,  '  Braddock,  you  are  a  poor  dog  I  Here,  take  my  purse. 
If  you  kill  me,  you  will  be  forced  to  run  away,  and  then  you  will 
not  have  a  shilling  to  support  you.'  Braddock  refused  the  purse, 
insisted  on  the  duel,  was  disarmed,  and  would  not  even  ask  his 
life.  However,  with  all  his  brutality,  he  had  lately  been  gover- 
nor of  Gibraltar,  where  he  made  himself  adored,  and  where 
scarce  any  governor  was  endured  heiore."— Letter  to  Sir  H, 
Mann,  CCLXV.  CCLXVI. 


MARCH  OF  BRADDOCK.  79 

mched  the  Monongahela,  at  a  point  not  far  distant  from 
tort  du  Quesne.  The  rocky  and  in.practicable  ground 
on  the  eastern  side  debarred  their  passage,  and  t^^ 
general  resolved  to  cross  the  river  in  search  of  a  smoother 

C'thefoT^Th'fl  'r '""^''  '"''''  down,  in  order  to 
g.un  the  fort     The  first  passage  was  easily  made,  and  the 

Uoops   moved,  m  glittering  array,   down  the   western 
margin  of  the  water,  rejoicing  that  their  goal  was  we 
ZtT      '        '^'  """^  "'  '"""^  ^-i-eeted  triumph  c7oe" 

Scouts  and  Indian  runners  had  brought  the  tidings  of 
Braddock's  approach  to  the  French  at  Fort  du  Qufsne 
Then-  dismay  was  great,  and  Contrecceur,  the  commander 
thought  only  of  retreat;  when  Beaujcu,  a  captaTin  the 
garrison,  made  the  bold  proposal  of  leading  out  a  mrtv 
of  French  and  Indians  to  waylay  the  En|hsh  in  hi 
woods,  and  harass  or  interruptVeir  ma^lfTh  "offer 
wa^^accepted,   a^d  Beaujeu    hastened  to  the    Indln 

th^'^hTl  ^l""  ^"'t  "^^  ^"^'■'^  *«  ^-IJace"*  forest  were 
the  bark  lodges  of  savage  hordes,  who^  the  French  C 

HuronfandT  '^I  '"^  "'"'^'    ''^'''^^  and    Ott,^' 
Hurons  and  Caughnawagas,  Abenakis  and  Delawares 

theToundw^'.r™'^  together,  flung  a  hatS  on 
the  ground  before  them,  and  invited  them  to  follow  him 
out  to  battle ;  .but  the  boldest  stood  aghast  at  the  per™ 
and  none   would  accept  the  challenge.    A  second  to 
terview  took  place  with  no  better  success ;  but  the  French: 

to  go,  he  exclaimed.  "What,  will  you  suffer  vnnr 
^rther  to  go  alone  ?  "  His  daring'spirit  proved  conte/ouT 
The  warriors  hesitated  no  longer ;  and   when    on   the 

nTrtLf  thTEnr."'  '"'''  ^^''°"'  ^-^  '""  * 
tent    the   TnH        ^         ''™y  "^"^  •'"'  *  fe^^  ™"e«  dis- 
turmnil  nf  T""^'   "^'"^   **   ""^^   »««'^   with   the 

follZ  "*?•■''?*'■''*>«"•    Chiefs  harangued  their  yelling 
followers,  braves  bedaubed   themselves   with   warnaSf 
.........  v^^  witu  grease,  nuiig  feathers  in  their 


'i 

llli 


80 


THE  CONSPIUACY  OF  rONTIAC. 


sculp-locks,  and   whoopod  and  Htamped    till  they  had 
wrouglil  thcinselvt's  into  a  doliriuni  of  valor. 

That  morning,  .lanus  Smith,  an  EngliHh   prisoner  re- 
cently uajJtured  on  the  frontier  of  PennHylvania,  stood  on 
the  rampart,  and  saw  tlu^  half-frenzied  nmltitnde  throng, 
ing  about  tiie  gateway,  where  kegs  of  bullets  nnd  giui- 
powder  were  broken  oiKjn,  that  eaeh  might  help  himself 
at  will.*     Then  band  after  band  hastened  away  towards 
the  forest,  followed  and  supported  by  nearly  two  hundred 
and  lifty  French  and  Canatlians,  commanded  by  Heaujeu. 
There  were  the  Ottawas,  led  on,  it  is  said,  by  the  remark- 
able man  whose  name  stands  on  the  title-page  of  this  his- 
tory ;  there  were  the  Hurons  of  Lorette  under  their  chief, 
whom  the  French  called  Athanase,t  and  many  more,  ali 
keen  as  hounds  on  the  scent  of  blood.    At  about  nine 
miles  from  the  fort,  they  reached  a  spot  where  the  nar- 
row road  descended  to  the  river  through  deep  and  gloomy 
woods,  and  where  two  ravines,  concealed  by  trees  and 
bushes,    seemed   formed  by   nature   for  an  ambuscade. 
Here  the  warriors  ensconced  theniselves,  and,  levelling 
their  guns  over  the  edge,  lay  in  fierce  expectation,  listen- 
ing to  the  advancing  drums  of  the  English  army. 

It  was  past  noon  of  a  day  brightened  with  the  clear 
sunlight  of  an  American  midsummer,  when  the  forces  of 
Braddock  began,  for  a  second  time,  to  cross  the  Mononga- 
hela,  at  the  fording-place,  which  to  this  day  bears  the 
name  of  their  ill-fated  leader.  The  scarlet  colunms  of 
the  British  regulars  complete  in  martial  appointment,  the 
rude  backwoodsmen  with  shouldered  rifles,  the  trahis  of 
artillery  and  the  white-topped  wagons,  moved  on  in  long 

*  Sniitli's  Narrative.  Tliis  interesting  account  has  been  several 
times  published.  It  may  be  found  in  Drake's  Tragedies  of  the 
Wilderness. 

t  "  Went  to  Lorette,  an  Indian  village  about  eight  nvles  from 
Quebec.  Saw  the  Indians  at  mass,  and  heard  them  sing  psalms 
tolei-ably  well~a  dance.  Got  well  acquainted  with  Athanase, 
who  was  commander  of  the  Indians  who  defeated  General  Brad- 
dock,  in  1755— a  very  sensible  fellow."— MS.  Journal  of  an  Eng- 
lish Gentleman  on  a  Tour  thi-ough  Canada,  in  1765. 


BRADDOCK'S  DEFEAT. 


81 


procession  through  the  broad  and  shallow  current,  and 
slowly  mounted  the  opposinff  bank.*  Men  were  there 
whose  names  liave  become  historic;  Gage,  who,  twenty 
years  later,  saw  his  routed  battalions  nicoil  in  disorder 
from  before  the  breastwork  on  liunker  Hill ;  Gates,  the 
future  conqueror  of  Burgoyne;  iind  one  destined  t J  far 
loftier  fame,  George  Washington,  a  boy  in  years,  a  man  in 
calm  thought  and  self-ruling  wisdom. 

With  steady  and  well-ordered  march,  the  troops  ad- 
vanced into  the  great  labyrintli  of  woods  which  shadowed 
the  eastern  borders  of  the  river.  Hank  after  rank  vanished 
from  sight.  The  forest  swallowed  them  up,  and  the 
silence  of  the  wilderness  sank  down  once  more  on  the 
shores  and  waters  of  the  Monongahela. 

Several  guides  and  six  light  horsemen  led  the  way  ;  a 
body  of  grenadiers  was  close  behind,  and  the  arm\'  fol- 
lowed in  such  order  as  the  rough  ground  would  permit 
Their  road  was  tunnelled  through  the  forest ;  yet,  deaf 
alike  to  the  voice  of  common  sense  and  to  the  <  ounsel  of 
his  officers,  Braddock  had  neglected  to  throw  out  scouts 
m  advance,  and  pressed  forward  in  blind  security  to  meet 
his  fate.    Leaving  behind  the  low  grounds  which  bor- 
dered on  the  river,  the  van  of  the  army  was  now  ascending  a 
gently-sloping  hill ;  and  here,  well  hidden  by  the  thick 
standmg  columns  of  the  forest,  by  mouldering  prostrate 
trunks,  by  matted  undergrowth,  and  long  rank  grasses,  Liy 
on  either  flank  the  two  fatal  ravines  where  the  Indian  allies 
of  the  French  were  crouched  in  breathless  ambuscade.  Ko 


My  feelings  were  heightened  by  the  warm  and  glowing  nar- 
ration  of  that  day's  events,  by  Dr.  Walker,  who  was  an  eye-wit- 
ness. He  pointed  out  the  ford  where  the  army  crossed  the  Mo- 
nongahela, (below  Turtle  Creek,  800  yards.)  A  finer  sight  could 
not  have  been  beheld-the  slxining  barrels  of  the  muskets,  the  ex- 
oeilent  order  of  the  men,  the  cleanliness  of  their  appearance,  the 
joj  depicted  on  every  face  at  being  so  near  Fort  du  Quesne— the 
nghest  object  of  their  wishes.  The  music  reechoed  through  the 
lulls.  How  brilliant  the  morning— how  melancholy  the  evenin  - ' 
-Letter  of  Judge  Veates,  dated   August,  1776.    See  Haz.,  Pa.* 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14590 

(716)  873-4503 


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\ 


82 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


man  saw  the  danger,  when  suddenly  a  discordant  cry  arose 
in  tront,  and  a  murderous  fire  blazed  in  the  teeth  of  the  as- 
tcmshed  grenadiers.    Instinctively  as  it  were,  the  ourvi- 
vors  returned  the  volley,  and  returned  it  with  good  effect  • 
for  a  random  shot  struck  down  the  brave  Beaujeu,  and  the 
courage  of  the  assailants  was  staggered  by  his  fall.  Dumas, 
second  in  command,  rallied  them  to  the  attack ;  and  while 
he  with  the  French  and  Canadians,  made  good  the  pass 
m  front,  the  Indians  opened  a  deadly  fire  on  the-  right  and 
left  of  the  British  columns.    In  a  few  moments,  all  was 
confusion.    The  advanced  guard  fell  back  on  the  main 
body,  and  every  trace  of  subordination  vanished.    The 
fire  soon  extended  along  the  whole  length  of  the  army 
from  front  to  rear.     Scarce  an  enemy  could  be  seen, 
though  the  forest  resounded  with  tlieir  yells ;  though 
every  bush  and  tree  was  alive   with  incessant  flashes : 
though  the  lead  flew  like  a  hailstorm,  and  with  every  mo- 
ment  the  men  went'  down  by  scores.    The  regular  troops 
seemed  bereft  of  their  senses.    They  huddled  together  in 
the  road  like  flocks  of  sheep;  and  happy  did  he  think 
himself  who  could  wedge  his  way  into  the  midst  of  the 
crowd,  and  place  a  barrier  of  human  flesh  between  his  life 
and  the  shot  of  the  ambushed  marksmen.    Many  were 
seen  eagerly  loading  their  muskets,  and  then  firing  them 
into  the  air,  or  shooting  their  own  comrades,  in  the  in- 
sanity  of  their  terror.     The  officers,  for  the  most  part,  dis- 
played a  conspicuous  gallantry ;  but  threats  and  com- 
mands  were  wasted  alike  on  the  panic-stricken  multitude 
It  IS  said  that  at  the  outset  Braddgck  showed  signs  of 
^ar;   but  he  soon    recovered  his  wonted    intrepidity 
Five  horses  were  shot  under  him,  and  five  times    he 
mounted  afresh.    He  stormed  and  shouted  omd,  while  the 
Virginians  were  fighting  to  good  purpose,  each  man  be- 
hind a  tree,  like  the  Indians  themselves,  he  ordered  them 
with  furious  mmace  to  form  in  platoons,  where  the  fire  of 
the  enemy  mowed  them  down  like  grass.    At  length,  a 
mortal  shot  silenced  him,  and  two  pro^dncials  bore  him  off 
the  field.     Washington  rode  through  the  tumult  calm  and 


RESULTS  OF  BRADDOCK'S  DEFEAT. 


83 


undaunted.    Two  horses  were  killed  under  him,  and  four 
bullets  pierced  his  clothes ;  but  his  hour  was  not  come, 
and  he  escaped  without  a  wound.    Gates  was  shot  through 
the  body,  and  Gage  also  was  severely  wounded.     Of 
eighty-siT  officers,  only  twenty- three  remained  unhuK; 
and  of  twelve  hundred  soldiers  who  crossed  the   Monon- 
gahela,  more  than  seven  hundred  were  killed  and  wounded 
None  suffered  more  severely  than  the  Virginians,  who  had 
displayed  throughout  a  degree  of  courage  and  steadiness 
which  put  the  cowardice  of  the  regulars  to  shame.     The 
havoc  among  them  was  terrible,  for  of  their  whole  number 
scarcely  one  fifth  left  the  field  alive.* 

The  slaughter  lasted  three  hours;  when,  at  length,  the 
survivors,  as  if  impeUed  by  a  general  impulse,   rushed 
tumultuously  from  the  place  of  carnage,  and  with  das- 
tardly precipitation  fled  across  the  Monongahela.    The 
enemy  did  not  pursue  beyond  the  river,  flocking  back  to 
the  field  to  collect  the  plunder,  and  gather  a  rich  harvest 
of  scalps.    The  routed  troops  pursued  their  flight  until 
they  met  the  rear  division  of  the  army  under  Colonel 
Dunbar ;  and  even  then  their  senseless  terrors  did  not 
abate.    Dunbar's  soldiers  caught  the  infection.     Cannon, 
baggage,  and  wagons  were  destroyed,  and  all   fled  to- 
gether, eager  to  escape  from  the  shadows  of  those  awful 
woods,  whose  horrors  haunted  their  imagination.    They 
passed  the  defenceless  settlements  of  the  border,  and 
hurried  on  to  Philadelphia,  leaving  the  unhappy  people 
to  defend  th-    iselves  as  they  miglit  against  the  tomahawk 
and  scalping-knife. 

*  "  The  Virginia  troops  showed  a  good  deal :  f  bravery,  and  were 
nearly  all  killed  ;  for  I  believe,  out  of  three  'jompanies  that  were 
there,  scarcely  thirty  men  are  left  alive.  Captain  Pevrouny,  and 
all  his  officers,  down  to  a  corporal,  were  killed.  Captain  Poison 
had  nearly  as  hard  a  fate,  for  only  one  of  his  was  left.  In  short, 
the  dastardly  behavior  of  those  they  call  regulars  exposed  all 
others,  that  were  inclined  to  do  their  duty,  to  almost  certain 
death  ;  and  at  last,  in  despite  of  all  the  efforts  of  the  officers  to 
the  contrary,  they  ran,  as  sheep  pureued  by  dogs,  and  it  was  im- 
possible to  rally  them."— WWWngrs  of  Washington,  II.  87. 


84 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


The  calamities  of  this  disgraceful  overthrow  did  not 
cease  with  the  loss  of  a  few  hundred  soldiers  on  the  field 
of  battle^  for  it  entailed  upon  the  provinces  all  the 
miseries  of  an  Indian  war.  Those  among  the  tribes  who 
had  thus  far  stood  neutral,  wavering  between  French  and 
English,  now  hesitated  no  longer.  Mnny  of  them  had 
been  disgusted  by  the  contemptuous  behavior  of  Brad- 
dock.  All  had  learned  to  despise  the  courage  of  the 
English,  and  to  regard  their  own  prowess  with  unbounded 
complacency.  It  is  not  in  Indian  nature  to  stand  quiet 
in  the  midst  of  war ;  and  the  defeat  of  Braddock  was  a 
signal  for  the  western  savages  to  snatch  their  tomahawks 
and  assail  the  English  settlements  with  one  accord ;  to 
murder  and  pillage  with  ruthless  fury,  and  turn  the  whole 
frontier  of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia  into  one  wide  scene 
of  woe  and  desolation. 

The  three  remaining  expeditions  which  th^    British 
ministry  had  planned  for  that  year's  campaign  were  at- 
tended with  various  results.     Acadia  was  quickly  reduced 
by  the  forces  of  Colonel  Monkton ;   but  the  glories  of 
this  easy  victory  were  tarnished  by  an  act  of  high-handed 
oppression.    Seven  thousand  of  the  unfortunate  people, 
refusing  to  take  the  prescribed  oath  of  allegiance,  were 
seized  by  the  conquerors,  torn  from  their  homes,  placed 
on  shipboard  like  cargoes  of  negro  slaves,  and  transported 
to  the  British  provinces.    The  expedition  against  Niagara 
was  a  total  failure,  for  the  troops  did  not  even  reach  their 
destination.    The  movement  against  Crown  Point  met 
with  no  better  success  as  regards  the  main  object  of  the 
enterprise.     Owing    to   the  lateness  of  the  season,  and 
other  causes,  the  troops  proceeded  no  farther  than  Lake 
George ;  but  the  attempt  was  marked  by  an  achievement 
of  arms,  which  in  that  day  of  failures,  was  greeted,  both 
England  and  America,  as  a  signal  victory. 

General,  afterwards  Sir  William  Johnson  had  been 
charged  with  the  conduct  of  the  Crown  Point  expedition  ; 
and  his  little  army,  a  rude  assemblage  of  hunters  and 
farmers  from  New  York  and  New  England  lay  encamped 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE.  35 

at  the  southern  extremity  of  Lake  George.    Here,  while 
they  languidly  pursued  their  preparations,  their  active 
enemy  anticipated  their  designs.     Baron  Dieskau,  who. 
with  a  strong  body  of  troops,  had  reached  Quebec  in  the 
squadron  which  sailed  from  Brest  in  the  spring,  had  in- 
tended  to  take  forcible  possession  of  the  fort  of  Oswcjro 
erected  upon  ground  claimed  by  the  French  as  part  of 
Canada.     Learning  Johnson's  movements,  he  changed  his 
plan,  crossed  Lake  Champlain,  made  a  circuit  by  way  of 
>V  ood  Creek,  ana  gained  the  rear  of  the  English  army 
with  a  force  of  about  two  thousand  French  and  Indians 
At  midnight,  on  the  seventh  of  September,  the  tidings 
reached  Johnson  that  the  army  of  the  French  baron  was 
but  a  few  miles  disUnt  .  .om  his  camp.    A  council  of  war 
was  called,  and  the  strange  resolution  formed  of  detaching 
a  thousand  men  to  meet  the  enemy.    « If  they  are  to  be 
killed,"  said  Hendrick,  the  Mohawk  chief,  "they  are  too 
many;  if  they  are  to  fight,  they  are  too  few."    His  re- 
monstrance was  unheeded,  and  the  brave  old  savage,  un- 
able from  age  and  corpulence,  to  fight    on  the  foot 
mounted  his  horse,  and  joined  the  English  detachment 
with  two  hundred  of  his  warriors.    At  sunrise,  the  party 
defiled  from  the  camp,  and,  entering  the  forest  disappeared 
from  the  eyes  of  their  comrades. 

Those  who  remained  behind  labored  with  all  the  energv 
of  alarm  to  fortify  their  unprotected  camp.  An  hour 
elapsed,  when  from  the  distance  was  heard  a  sudden  ex- 
plosion of  musketry.  The  excited  soldiers  suspended 
their  work  to  listen.  A  rattling  fire  succeeded,  deadened 
among  the  woods,  but  growing  louder  and  nearer,  till 
none  could  doubt  that  their  comrades  had  met  the  French 
and  were  defeated.  ' 

This  was  indeed  the  case.  Marching  through  thick 
woods,  by  the  narrow  and  newly-cut  road  which  led  along 
the  valley  stretching  southward  from  Lak3  George, 
Williams,  the  English  commander,  had  led  his  men  full 
into  an  ambuscade,  where  all  Dieskau's  army  lay  in  wait 
to  receive  them.    From  the  woods  on  both  sides  rose  an 


r?^ 


\ 


86 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PGNTIAC. 


appalling  shout,  followed  by  a  storm  of  bullets.     W  illiams 
was  soon  shot  down ;  Hendrick  shared  his  fate ;  many 
officers  fell,  and   the   road  was  strewn   with   dead  and 
wounded  soldiers.    The  English  gave  way  at  once.    Had 
they  been  regular  troops,  the  result  would  have  been 
most  fatal;    but  every   man   was   a   woodsman  and    a 
hunter.     Some  retired  in  bodies  along  the  road ;  but  the 
greater  part  spread  themselves  through  the  forest,  oppos- 
ing a  wide  front  to  the  enemy,  and  lighting  stubbornly  as 
they  retreated.     They  shot  back  at  the  French  from  be- 
hind every  tree  or  bush  that  could  afford  a  cover.    The  ^ 
Canadians  and  Indians  pressed  them  closely,  darting,  with 
shrill  cries,  from  tree  to  tree,  while  Dieskau's  regulars, 
with  steadier  advance,  bore  all  before  them.     Far  and 
wide  through   the   forest  rang   shout,  and   shriek,    and 
Indian  whoop,  mingled  with  the  deadly  rattle  of  guns. 
Retreating  and   piirsing,  the  combatants  passed  north- 
ward towards   the  English  camp,   leaving  the  ground 
behind  them  strewn  with  dead  and  dying. 

A  fresh  detachment  from  the  camp  came  in  aid  of  the 
English,  and  the  pursuit  was  checked.  Yet  the  retreat- 
ing men  were  not  the  less  rejoiced  when  they  could  dis- 
cern, between  the  brown  columns  of  the  woods,  the  moun- 
tains and  waters  of  Lake  George,  with  the  white  tents  of 
their  encampments  on  its  shore.  The  French  followed  no 
farthp  The  blast  of  their  trumpets  was  heard  recalling 
their  scattered  men  for  a  final  attack. 

During  the  absence  of  Williams'  (Jetachment,  the  main 
body  of  the  army  had  covered  the  front  of  their  camp  with 
a  breastwork,  if  that  name  can  be  applied  to  a  row  of 
logs,  behind  which  the  marksmen  lay  flat  on  their  faces. 
This  preparation  was  not  yet  complete,  when  the  defeated 
troops  appeared  issuing  from  the  woods.  Breathless  and 
perturbed,  they  entered  the  camp,  and  lay  down  with  the 
rest.  Full  of  dismal  forebodings,  the  army  waited  the 
attack.  Soon,  at  the  edge  of  the  woods  which  bordered 
the  open  space  in  front,  painted  Indians  were  seen,  and 
bayonets  glittered  ai?»ong  the  foliage,  shining,  in  the 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  WAR. 


87 


homely  comparison  of  a  New  England  soldier,  like  a  row 
0  icicles  on  a  January  morning.  The  French  i^gnlarT 
marched  m  column  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing!  and 
formed  in  line  confronting  the  English  at  the  distance  of 
a  hundred  and  fifty  yards.  Their  complete  order,  thet 
white  uniforms  and  bristling  bayonets,  were  a  new  and 
starthng  sight  to  the  eyes  of  Johnson's  rustic  soTdiers 
who  raised  but  a  feeble  cheer  in  answer  to  the  shouts  of 
their  enemies.  Happily,  Dieskau  made  no  assault  The 
regulars  opened  a  distant  fire,  throwing  volley  after  volley 

aLTndf'  r'"'*-  *'  ^"S"*'  ^'^"«  *e  Ca^dians 
Sank  of  r*  •^■^P7>°g  through  the  morasses  on  each 
flank  of  the  camp,  fired  sharply,  under  cover  of  tlie  trees 
and  bushes.  In  the  rear,  the  English  were  protected  by 
the  lake;  but  on  the  three  remaining  sides,  they  were 
liedged  m  by  the  flash  and  smoke  of  musketry 

The  fire  of  the  French  had  little  effect.  The  English 
recovered  from  their  first  surprise,  and  every  moment 
heir  confidence  rose  higher  and  tteir  shouts  gewTX 
Levelling  their  long  hunting  guns  with  J>1  JrecS' 
they  returned  a  fire  which  thinned  the  ranks  of  th^ 
French,  and  galled  them  beyond  endurance.    Two  .Inon 

sheltered  the  Canadians  and  Indians;  and  though  the 
pieces  were  served  with  little  skill,  the  assailants  were  so 
temfled  by  the  crashing  of  the  balls  among  the  teunks 
and  branches,  that  they  gave  way  at  once.    Dieskrstill 

0  clock,  the  firing  was  scarcely  abated,  when,  at  length 

wavfr;  •  rt'°th'''  ^.^^^  •'^''"'"^■y-  *«-«•!  ^^^-^^i 

wavering.    At  this,  with  a  general  shout,  the  Enitlish 

strikwT*f  «''™P:  «"<!  rushed  upon  their  enemies, 
striking  them  down  with  the  buts  of  their  guns   and 

&risr  ^r^"^  ''^  "'^^  '*^  •^«--  "'-l^-  -s 
sunnorf'  1'..*°^'"""'^  ^°^^<i^  and  leaning  for 
support  against  the  stump  of  a  tree.  The  slaughter  would 
have  been  great,  had  not  the  English  general  recalled  the 
pursuers,  and  suffered  the  French  to  l-ntinue TheTfli  ** 


f 


88 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


unmolested.  Fresh  disasters  still  awaited  the  fugitives ; 
for,  as  they  approached  the  scene  of  that  morning's  am- 
buscade, they  were  greeted  by  a  volley  of  musketry.  Two 
companies  of  New  York  and  New  Hampshire  rangers, 
who  had  come  out  from  Fort  Edward  as  a  scouting  party, 
had  lain  in  wait  to  receive  them.  Favored  by  the  dark- 
ness of  the  woods,— for  night  was  now  approaching, — 
they  made  so  sudden  and  vigorous  an  attack,  that  the 
French,  though  far  superior  in  number,  were  totally  routed 
and  dispersed.* 

On  this  day,  the  British  colonists  of  America,  for  the 
first  time,  encountered  in  battle  the  trained  soldiers  of 
Europe.  That  memorable  conflict  has  cast  its  dark  asso- 
ciations over  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  America. 
Near  the  scene  of  the  evening  fight,  a  pool,  half  over- 
grown by  weeds  and  water  lilies,  and  darkened  by  the 
surrounding  forest,  is  pointed  out  to  the  tourist,  and  he  is 
told  that  beneath  its  stagnant  waters  lie  the  bones  of 
three  hundred  Frenchmen,  deep  buried  in  mud  and  slime. 

The  war  thus  begun  was  prosecuted  for  five  succeed- 
ing years  with  the  full  energy  of  both  nations.  The 
period  was  one  of  suffering  and  anxiety  to  the  colonists, 
who,  knowing  the  full  extent  of  their  danger,  spared  no 
exertion  to  avert  it.  In  the  year  1758,  Lord  Abercrombie, 
who  then  commanded  in  America,  had  at  his  disposal  a 
force  amounting  to  fifty  thousand  men,  of  whom  the 
greater  part  were  provincials.    The  operations  of  the  war 

*  Blodgett's  Prospective  View  of  the  Battle  near  Lake  George. 

Blodgett's  pamphlet  is  accompanied  by  a  curious  engraving, 
giving  a  bird's  eye  view  of  the  battle,  including  the  surprise  of 
Williams'  detachment,  and  the  subsequent  attack  on  the  camp 
of  Johnson.  In  the  first  half  of  the  engraving,  the  French  army 
is  represented  lying  la  ambuscade  in  the  form  of  a  liorse-shoe. 
Hendrick  is  conspicuous  among  the  English,  from  being  mounted 
on  horseback,  while  all  the  others  are  on  foot.  In  the  view  of 
the  battle  at  the  lake,  the  English  are  represented  lying  flat  on 
their  faces,  behind  their  breastwork,  and  busily  firing  at  the 
French  and  Indians,  who  are  seen  skulking  among  the  woods 
and  thickets. 


OSWEGO— FORT  WILLIAM  HENRY. 


89 


embraced  a  wide  extent  of  country,  from  Cape  Breton 
and  Nova  Scotia  to  the  sources  of  the  Ohio  ;  but  nowhere 
was  the  contest  so  actively  carried  on  a    in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Lake  George,  the  waters  of  which,  joined  with 
those  of  Lake  Champlain,  formed  the   main  avenue  of 
communication  between  Canada  and  the  British  [provinces. 
Lake  George  is  more  than  thirty  miles  long,  but  of  width 
so  slight  that  it  seems  like  some  broad  and  placid  river 
enclosed  between  ranges  of  lofty  mountains ;  now  con* 
tracting  into  narrows,  thickly  dotted  with  islands  and 
shadowed  by  cliffs  and  precipices,  and  now  spreading  into 
a  clear  and  open  expanse.     It  had  long  been  known  to 
the   French.     The   wandering  Jesuits  had  called  it  Lac 
St.  Sacrement,  in  admiration  of  its  romantic  scenery  and 
the  cool  purity  of  its  waters,  which  they  loved  to  use  in 
their  sacred  rites.    Its  solitude  was  now  rudely  invaded 
Armies  passed  and  repassed  upon  its   tranquil  bosom 
At  Its  northern  point  the  French  planted  their  strong- 
hold of  Ticonderoga ;  at  its  southern  stood  the  English 
fort  William  Henry,  while  the  mountains  and  waters  be- 
tween were  a  scene  of  ceaseless  ambuscades,  surprises 
and  forest  ski--aishing.     Through  summer  and  winter' 
the  crack  of  rifles  and  the  cries  of  men  gave  no  rest  to 
their  echoes,  and  at  this  day,  on  the  field  of  many  a  for- 
gotten fight,  are  dug  up  rusty  tomahawks,  corroded  bul- 
lets,  and  human  bones,  to  attest  the  struggles  of  the  past. 
The  earlier  years  of  the  war  were  unpropitious  to  the 
English,  whose  commanders  displayed  no  great  degree  of 
vigor  or  ability.    In  the  summer  of  1766,  the  French  gen- 
eral   Montcalm  advanced   upon   Oswego,    took   it,   and 
levelled  it  to  the  ground.     In  August  of  the  following 
year,  he  struck  a  heavier  blow.     Passing  Lake  George 
with  a  force  of  eight  thousand  men,  including  about  two 
thousand  Indians,  gathered  from  the  farthest  parts  of 
Canada,  he  laid  siege  to  Fort  William  Henry,  close  to  the 
spot  where  Dieskau  had  been  defeated  two  years  before. 
Erecting  his  batteries  against  it,  he  beat  down  its  ram- 
parts  and  dismounted  its  guns,  until  tJie  garrison,  after  a 


90 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


brave  defence,  were  forced  to  capitulate.  They  raarched 
out  with  the  honors  of  war  ;  but  scarcely  had  they  done 
so,  when  Montcalm's  Indians  assailed  them,  cutting  down 
and  scalping  them  without  mercy.  Those  who  escaped 
came  in  to  Fort  Edward  with  exaggerated  accounts  of  the 
horrors  from  which  they  had  fled,  and  a  general  terror 
was  spread  throupfh  the  country.  The  inhabitants  were 
mustered  from  all  parts  to  repel  the  advance  of  Mont- 
calm ;  but  the  French  general,  satisfied  with  what  he  had 
done,  repassed  Lake  George,  and  retired  behind  the  walls 
of  Ticonderoga. 

In  the  year  1758,  the  war  began  to  assume  a  different 
aspect,  for  Pitt  was  at  the  head  of  the  government.  Sir 
Jeffrey  Amherst  laid  siege  to  the  strong  fortress  of  Louis- 
burg,  and  at  length  reduced  it ;  while  in  the  south.  Gen- 
eral Forbes  marched  against  Fort  du  Quesne,  and,  more 
fortunate  than  hi^  predecessor,  Braddock,  drove  the 
French  from  that  important  point.  Another  successful 
stroke  was  the  destruction  of  Fort  Frontenac,  which  was 
taken  by  a  provincial  army  under  Colonel  Bradstreet. 
These  achievements  were  counterbalanced  by  a  signal 
disaster.  Lord  Abercrombie,  with  an  army  of  sixteen 
thousand  men,  advanced  to  the  head  of  Lake  George,  the 
place  made  memorable  by  Dieskau's  defeat  and  the  loss 
of  Fort  William  Henry.  On  a  brilliant  July  morning,  he 
embarked  his  whole  force  for  an  attack  on  Ticonderoga. 
Many  of  those  present  have  recorded  with  admiration  the 
beauty  of  the  spectacle,  the  lines  of  boats  filled  with 
troops  stretching  far  down  the  lake,  the  flashing  of  oars, 
the  glitter  of  weapons,  and  the  music  ringing  back  from 
crags  and  rocks,  or  dying  in  mellowed  strains  among  the 
distant  mountains.  At  night,  the  army  landed,  and,  driv- 
ing in  the  French  outposts,  marched  through  the  woods 
towards  Ticonderoga.  One  of  their  columns,  losing  its 
way  in  the  forest,  fell  in  with  a  body  of  the  retreating 
French ;  and  in  the  conflict  that  ensued,  Lord  Howe,  the 
favorite  of  the  army,  was  shot  dead.  On  the  following 
morning,  they  prepared  to  storm  the  lines  which  Mont- 


STATE  OF  CANADA. 


91 


calm  had  drawn  across  the  peninsula  m  front  of  the  fort- 
ress.   Advancing  to  the  attiick,  they  saw  before  them  a 
breastwork  of   uncolnmon   height  and    thickness.    The 
French  army  were  drawn  up  behind  it,  their  heads  alone 
visible,  as  they  levelled  their  muskets  against  the  assail- 
ants,  while,  for  a  hundred  yards  in  front  of  the  work  the 
ground  was  covered  with   felled  trees,  with  sharpened 
branches  pointing  outward.     The  signal  of  assault  was 
given.    In  vain  the  Highlanders,  screaming  with  rage, 
hewed  with  their  broadswords  among  the  branches,  strug- 
gling to  get  at  the  enemy.     In  vain  the  English,  with 
their  deep-toned  shout,  rushed  on  in  heavy  columns      \ 
tempest  of  musket  balls  met  them,  and  Montcalm's  can- 
non swept  the  whole  ground  with  terrible  carnage     A 
few  officers  and   men  forced  their    way    through  the 
branches,  passed  the  ditch,  climbed  the  breastwork,  and 
leaping  among   the  enemy,    were  instantly  bayoneted' 
Yet,  though   the   English  fought  four  hours   with  de- 
termined valor,  the  position  of  the  French  was  impreg- 
nable ;  and  at  length,  having  lost  two  thousand  of  their 
number,  the  army  drew  off,  leaving  many  of  their  dead 
scattered  upon  the  field.    A  sudden  panic  seized  the  de- 
feated  troops.    They  rushed  in  haste  to  their  boats,  and 
though  no  pursuit  was  attempted,  they  did  not  regain 
their  composure  until  Lake  George  was  between  them  and 
the  enemy.    The  fatal  lines  of  Ticonderoga  were  not  soon 
forgotten  in  the  provmces ;  and  marbles  in  Westminster 
Abbey  preserve  the  memory  of  those  who  fell  on  that 
disastrous  day. 

This  repulse,  far  from  depressing  the  energies  of  the 
British  commanders,  seemed  to  stimulate  them  to  new 
exertion;  and  the  campaign  of  the  next  year,  1759,  had 
for  its  object  the  immediate  and  total  reduction  of  Canada 
This  unhappy  country  was  full  of  misery  and  disorder 
Peculation  and  every  kind  of  corruption  prevailed  among 
its  cml  and  military  chiefs,  a  reckless  licentiousness  was 
increasing  among  the  people,  and  a  general  famine  seemed 
impending,  for  the  population  had  of  late  years  been 


TPf 


92 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


drained  away  for  military  service,  and  the  fields  were  left 
untilled.  In  spite  of  their  sufferings,  the  Canadians, 
strong  in  rf)oted  antipathy  to  the*  English,  ana  highly 
excited  by  their  priests,  resolved  on  fightnig  to  the  last. 
Prayers  were  offered  up  in  the  churchcH,  masses  said,  and 
penances  enjoined,  to  avert  the  wrath  of  God  from  the 
colony,  while  everything  was  done  for  its  defence  which 
the  energies  of  a  great  and  patriotic  leader  could  effect. 

By  the  plan  of  this  summer's  campaign,  Canada  was  fo 
\)e  assailed  on  three  sides  at  once.     Upon  the  west,  Gen- 
eral  Prideaux  was   to  attack  Niagara ;  upon  the  soutli. 
General  Amherst  was  to  advance  upon  Ticonderoga  and 
Crown  Point ;  while  upon  the  east,  General  Wolfe  w^a  to 
besiege   Quebec  j  and  each  of  these   armies,  having  ac- 
complished its  particular  object,  was  directed  to  push 
forward,  if    possi,ble,   until   all   three  had  united  their 
forces  in  the  h.vart  of  Canada.     In  pursuance  of  the  plan. 
General  Prideaux  moved  up  Lake  Ontario  and  invested 
Niagara.     This  post  was  one  of  the  greatest  importance. 
Its  capture  would  cut  off  the  French  from  the  whole  in- 
terior country,  and  they  therefore  made  every  effort  to 
raise  the  siege.     An  army  of  seventeen  hundred  French 
and  Indians,  collected  at  the  distant  garrisons  of  Detroit, 
Presqu'Isle,  Le  Boeuf,  and  Venango,  suddenly  appeared 
before  Niagara.     Sir  William  Johnson  was  now  in  com- 
mand of  the  English,  Prideaux  having  been  killed  by  the 
bursting  of  a  cohorn.     Advancing  in  order  of  battle,  he 
met  the  French,  charged,  routed,  and  pursued  them  for 
five  miles  through  the  woods.    This  success  was  soon  fol- 
lowed by  the  surrender  of  the  fort. 

In  the  meantime.  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  had  crossed 
Lake  George,  and  appeared  before  Ticonderoga;  upon 
which  the  French  blew  up  their  works,  and  retired  down 
Lake  Champlain  to  Crown  Point.  Retreating  from  this 
position  also,  on  the  approach  of  the  English  army,  they 
collected  all  their  forces,  amounting  to  little  more  than 
three  thousand  men,  at  Isle  Aux  Noix,  where  they  in- 
trenched themselves,  and  prepared  to  resist  the  farther 


WOLFE  BEFORE  QUEBEC. 


93 


progress  of  the  invaders.  The  lateness  of  :;he  yeason 
prevented  Amherst  from  carrying  out  the  plan  of  advan- 
cmg  into  Canada,  and  compelled  him  U)  go  into  winter- 
quarters  at  Crown  Point.  The  same  cause  had  withheld 
Prideaux's  army  from  descending  Jie  St.  Lawrence. 

While  the  outposts  of  Canada  were  thus  successfully 
attiicked,  a  blow  was  struck  at  a  more  vital  part.     Early 
in  June,  General  Wolfe  sailed  up  the  St  Uv/rence  with  a 
force,  of  sight  thousand  men,  and  formed  his  camp  imme- 
diate!^  below  the  city,  on  the  Island  of  Orleans.     From 
thence  he  could  discern,  at  a  single  glauv^e,  how  arduous 
was  the  task  before  him.     Piles  of  lofty  cliffs  rose   with 
sheer  ascent  o\.  the  northern  border  of  tne  river :  and  from 
their  sumir  its  the  boasted  citadel  of  Canada  looked  down 
in  proud  security,  with  its  churches  and  convents  of  stone, 
its  ramparts,  bastions,  and  batteries,  while  over  them,  all,* 
from  the  very  brink  of  the  precipice,  towered  the  massive 
walls  of  the  Castle  of  St.  Louis.    Above,  for  many  a  league, 
the   bank   was  guarded  by  an  unbroken  range  of  steep 
acclivities.     Below,  the  River  St.  Charles,  flowing  into 
the  St.  Lawrence,  washed  the  base  of  the  rocky  promon- 
tory on  which  the  city  stood.     Lower  yet  lay  an  army  of 
fourteen  thousand  men,  under  an  able  and  renowned  com- 
mander, the  Marquis  of  Montcalm.     His  front  was  cov 
ered  by  intrenchments  and  batteries,  which  lined  the  bank 
of  the  St.  Lawrence ;  his  right  wing  rested  on  the  city 
and  the  St.  Charles;  his  left  on  the  cascade  and  deep 
gulf  ofMontmorenci  ;  and  thick  forests  extended  along 
his  rear.    Opposite  Quebec  rose  the  high  promontory  of 
Point  Levi;  and  the   St.  Lawrence,   contracted  to  less 
than  a  mile  in  width,  flowed  between,  with  deep  and 
powerful  current.     To  a  chief  of  less  resolute  temper,   it 
might  well  have  seemed  that  art  and  nature  were  in 
league  to  thwart  his  enterprise ;  but  a  mind  like  that  of 
Wolfe  could  only  have  seen  in  this  majestic  combination 
of  forest  and  cataract,  mountain  and  river,  a  fitting  theatre 
for  the  great  drama  about  to  be  enacted  there. 
Yet  nature  did  not  Beam  to  have  formed  the  young 


94 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ii 


ill  ill 


:  Ii, 


ai  i 


'    I; 


English  general  for  the  conduct  of  a  douhtful  and  almost 
desperate  enterprise.  His  person  was  slight,  and  his 
features  by  no  ineans  of  a  martial  cast.  His  feeble  con- 
stitution had  been  undermined  by  years  of  protracted  and 
painful  disease.*  His  kind  and  genial  disposition  seemed 
better  fitted  for  the  quiet  of  domestic  life,  than  for  the 
stern  duties  of  military  command ;  but  to  these  gentler 
traits  he  joined  a  high  enthusiasm,  and  an  unconquerable 
spirit  of  daring  and  endurance,  which  made  him  the  idol 
of  his  soldiers,  and  bore  his  slender  frame  through  every 
hardship  and  exposure. 

The  work  before  him  demanded  all  his  courage.  How 
to  invest  the  city,  or  even  bring  the  army  of  Montcalm  to 
action,  was  a  problem  which  might  have  perplexed  a 
Hannibal.  A  French  fleet  lay  in  the  river  above,  and  the 
precipices  along  t!^e  northern  bank  were  guarded  at  every 
accessible  point  by  sentinels  and  outposts.  Wolfe  would 
have  crossed  the  Montmorenci  by  its  upper  ford,  and  at- 
tacked the  French  army  on  its  left  and  rear ;  but  the  plan 
was  thwarted  by  the  nature  of  the  ground  and  the  sleep- 
less vigilance  of  his  adversaries.  Thus  baffled  at  every 
other  point,  he  formed  the  bold  design  of  storming  Mont- 
calm's position  in  front;  and  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
thirty-first  of  July,  a  strong  body  of  troops  was  embarked 
in  boats,  and,  covered  by  a  furious  cannonade  from  the 
English  ships  and  batteries,  landed  on  the  beach  just 
above  the  mouth  of  the  Montmorenci.  The  grenadiers 
and  Royal  Americans  \^^ere  the  flnst  on  shore,  and  their 

*  "  I  have  this  day  signified  to  Mr.  Pitt  that  he  may  dispose  of 
my  slight  carcass  as  he  pleases,  and  that  I  am  ready  for  any  un- 
dertaking within  the  reach  and  compass  of  my  skill  and  cunning. 
I  am  in  a  very  bad  condition,  both  vvith  the  gravel  and  rheuma- 
tiom  ;  but  I  had  much  rather  die  than  decline  any  kind  of  serv- 
ice that  offers  :  if  I  followed  my  own  taste,  it  would  l^ad  me 
into  Germany  ;  and  if  my  poor  talent  was  consulted,  they  should 
place  me  to  the  cavalry,  because  nature  has  given  me  good  eyes, 
and  a  wdrmth  of  temper  to  follow  the  first  impressions.  How 
ever,  it  is  not  our  part  to  choose,  but  to  obey." — Letter — Wolfe  to 
William  Bickson,  Salisbury,  Ljcember  1,  1758. 


ASSAULT  AT  MONTMORENCI. 


96 


ill-timed  impetuosity  proved  the  ruin  of  the  plan.     With- 
out waiting  to  receive  their  orders  or  form  their  ranks 
they  ran,  pellmell,  across  the  level  ground  between,  and 
with  loud  shouts  began,  each  man  for  himself,  to  scale  the 
heights  which  rose  in  front,  crested  with  intrenchments 
and  bristling  with  hostile  arms.     The  French  at  the  top 
threw  volley  after  volley  among  the  hotheaded  assailants 
The  slop3s  were   soon  covered  with  the  fallen  ;  and  at 
that  instant  a  storm,  which  had  long  been  threatening, 
burst  with  sudden  fury,  drennhea  ±e  combatants  on  both' 
sides  with  a  deluge  of  rain,  extinguished  for  a  moment 
the  fire  of  the  French,  and  at  the  same  time  made  the 
steeps  so  slippery  that  the  grenadiers   fell  repeatedly  in 
their  vain  attempts   to  climb.     Night   was   coming  on 
with  double  darkness.     The  retreat  was  sounded,  and,  as 
the  English  reembarked,  troops  of  Indians  came   whoop- 
ing down  the  heights,  and  hovered  about  their  rear,  to 
murder  the  stragglers  and  the  wounded  ;  while  exulting 
shouts  and  cries  of  Vive  le  roi,  from  the  crowded  sum- 
mits, proclaimed  the  triumph  of  the  enemy. 

Wi^^h  bitter  agony  of  mind,  Wolfe  beheld  the  headlong 
folly  of  his  men,  and  saw  more  than  four  hundred  of  the 
flower  of  his  army  faU  a  useless  sacrifice.  The  anxieties 
of  the  siege  had  told  severely  upon  his  slender  constitu- 
tion ;  and  not  long  after  this  disaster,  he  felt  the  first 
symptoms  of  a  fever,  which  soon  confined  him  to  his 
couch.  Still  his  mind  never  wavered  from  its  purpose  ; 
and  it  was  while  lying  helpless  in  the  chamber  of  a  Can- 
adian house,  where  he  had  fixed  his  headquarters,  that  he 
embraced  the  plan  of  that  heroic  enterprise  which  robbed 
him  of  life,  and  gave  him  immortal  fame. 

The  plan  had  been  first  proposed  during  the  height  of 
Wolfe's  illness,  at  a  council  of  his  subordinate  generals, 
Monkton,  Tov/nshend,  and  Murray.  It  was  resolved  to 
divide  the  little  army,  and,  while  one  portion  remained 
before  Quebec  to  alarm  the  enemy  by  false  attacks,  and 
distract  their  attention  from  the  scfinA  of  nnfuai  r.r»oT.of;^r. 
the  other  was  to  pass  above  the  town,  land  under  cover  of 


i-JI;  ':^i 

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96 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


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darkness  on  the  northern  shore,  climb  the  guarded 
heights,  gain  the  plains  above,  and  force  Montcalm  to 
quit  his  vantage-ground,  and  perhaps  to  offer  battle. 
The  scheme  was  daring  even  to  rashness ;  but  its  singu- 
lar audacity  was  the  secret  of  its  success. 

Early  in  September,  a  crowd  of  ships  and  transports, 
under  Admiral  Holmes,  passed  the  city  amidst  the  hot 
firing  of  its  batteries  ;.  while  the  troops  designed  for  the 
expedition,  amounting  to  scarcely  five  thousand,  marched 
upward  along  the  southern  bank,  beyond  reach  of  the 
cannonade.  All  were. then  embarked;  and  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  twelfth.  Holmes'  fleet,  with  the  troops  on  board, 
lay  safe  at  anchor  in  the  river,  several  leagues  above  the 
town.  These  operations  had  not  failed  to  awaken  the 
suspicions  of  Montcalm ;  and  he  had  detached  M.  Bou- 
gainville to  watch  ^  the  movements  of  the  English,  and 
prevent  their  landing  on  the  northern  shore. 

The  eventful  night  of  the  twelfth  was  clear  and  calm, 
with  no  light  but  that  of  the  stars.  Within  two  hours 
before  daybreak,  thirty  boats,  crowded  with  sixteen 
hundred  soldiers,  cast  off  from  the  vessels,  and  floated 
downward,  in  perfect  order,  with  the  current  of  the  ebb 
tide.  To  the  boundless  joy  of  the  army,  Wolfe's  malady 
had  abated,  and  he  was  able  to  command  in  person.  His 
ruined  health,  the  gloomy  prospects  of  the  siege,  and  the 
disaster  at  Montmorenci,  had  oppressed  him  with  the 
deepest  melancholy,  but  never  impaired  for  a  moment  the 
promptness  of  his  decisions,  or  the  impetuous  energy  of 
his  action.*     He  sat  in  the  stern  of  one  of  the  boats,  pale 

*  In  his  Letter  to  the  Ministry,  dated  Sept.  2,  Wolfe  writes  in 
these  desponding  words : — 

"  By  the  nature  of  the  river,  the  most  formidable  part  of  this 
armament  is  deprived  of  the  power  of  acting;  yet  we  have 
almost  tlie  whole  force  of  Canada  to  oppose.  In  this  situation 
there  is  such  a  choice  of  difficulties,  that  I  own  myself  at  a  loss 
how  to  determine.  Tlie  affairs  of  Great  Britain  I  know  require 
the  most  vigorous  measures,  but  then  the  courage  of  a  handful 
of  brave  troops  should  be  exerted  only  where  there  is  some  hope 
of  a  favorable  event.    However,  you  may  be  assured,  that  the 


HEROISM  OF  WOLFE. 


97 


and  weak,  but  borne  up  to  a  calm  height  of  resolution. 
Every  order  had  been  given,  every  arrangement  made, 
and  it  only  remained  to  face  the  issus.  The  ebbing  tide 
sufficed  to  bear  the  boats  along,  and  nothing  broke  the 
silence  of  the  night  but  the  gurgling  of  the  river  and  the 
low  voice  of  Wolfe  as  he  repeated  to  the  officers  about 
him  the  stanzas  of  Gray's  Elegy  in  a  Country  Church- 
yard, which  had  recently  appeared,  and  wl  ;ch  he  had 
just  received  from  England.  Perhaps,  as  he  uttered 
those  strangely  appropriate  words, 

"  The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave," 

the  shadows  of  his  own  approaching  fate  stole  with 
mournful  prophecy  across  his  mind.  "Gentlemen,"  he 
said,  cis  he  closed  his  recital,  "  I  would  rather  have  written 
those  lines  than  take  Quebec  to-morrow."  * 

As  they  approached  the  landing-place,  the  boats  edged 
closer  in  towards  the  northern  shore,  and  the  woody 
precipices  rose  high  on  their  left,  like  a  wall  of  undistin- 
guished blackness. 

"  Qui  vive  f  "  shouted  a  French  sentinel,  from  out  the 
impervious  gloom. 

small  part  of  the  campaign  which  remains  shall  be  employed  (as 
far  as  I  am  able)  for  the  lionor  of  liis  Majesty,  and  the  interest 
of  the  nation  ;  in  which  I  am  sure  of  being  well  seconded  by  the 
admiral  and  by  the  generals  :  happy  if  our  efforts  here  can  con- 
tribute to  the  success  of  his  Majesty's  arms  in  any  other  part  of 
America." 

*'*This  anecdote  was  related  by  the  late  celebrated  John 
Robison,  Professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  in  the  University  of 
Edinburgh,  who,  in  his  youth,  was  a  midshipman  in  the  British 
navy,  and  was  in  the  same  boat  with  Wolfe.  His«son,  my  kins- 
man. Sir  John  Robison,  communicated  it  to  me,  and  it  has  since 
been  recorded  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Edin- 
burgh. 

'  The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave  ' 

is  one  of  the  lines  which  Wolfe  must  have  recited  as  he  strik- 
ingly exempliiieu  its  application."— Grahame,  Hist.  U.  6".  IV.  50. 
See  also  Playfair's  Works,  IV.  126. 

7 


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ir    !  " 

■     ( 


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i 


08 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


«  La  France  !  "  answered  a  captain  of  Fraser's  High- 
landers, from  the  foremost  boat. 

"  A  quel  regiment  f  "  demanded  the  soldier. 

«i>e  la  Beinef^  promptly  replied  the  Highland  cap- 
tain, who  chanced  to  know  that  the  corps  so  designated 
formed  part  of  Bougainville's  command.  As  boats  were 
frequently  passing  down  the  river  with  supplies  for  the 
garrison,  and  as  a  convoy  from  Bougainville  was  expected 
that  very  night,  the  sentinel  was  deceived,  and  allowed 
the  English  to  proceed. 

A  few  moments  after,  they  were  challenged  again,  and 
this  time  they  could  discern  the  soldier  running  close 
down  to  the  water's  edge,  as  if  all  his  suspicions  were 
aroused;  but  the  skilful  replies  of  the  Highlander  once 
more  saved  the  party  from  discovery. 

They  reached  thjB  landing-place  in  safety— an  indenta- 
tion in  the  shore,  about  a  league  above  the  city,  and  now 
bearing  the  name  of  Wolfe's  Cove.  Here  a  narrow  path 
led  up  the  face  of  the  heights,  and  a  French  guard  was 
posted  at  the  top  to  defend  the  pass.  By  the  force  of  the 
current,  the  foremost  boats,  including  that  which  carried 
Wolfe  himself,  were  borne  a  Uttle  below  the  spot.  The 
general  was  one  of  the  first  on  shore.  He  looked  upward 
at  the  rugged  heights  which  towered  above  him  in  the 
gloom.  "  You  can  try  it,"  he  coolly  observed  to  an  officer 
near  him  ;  "  but  I  don't  think  you'll  get  up. 

At  the  point  where  the  Highlanders  landed,  one  of 
their  captains,  Donald  Macdonald,  ^apparently  the  same 
whose  presence  of  mind  had  just  saved  the  enterprise  from 
ruin,  was  climbiig  in  advance  of  his  men,  when  he  was 
challenged  by  a  sentinel.  He  replied  in  French,  by  de- 
claring that  he  had  been  sent  to  relieve  the  guard,  and 
ordering  the  soldier  to  withdraw.  Before  the  latter  was 
undeceived,  a  crowd  of  Highlanders  were  close  at  hand, 
while  the  steeps  below  were  thronged  with  eager  climbers, 
dragging  themselves  up  by  trees,  roots,  and  bushes.  The 
sruard  turned  out.  and  made  a  brief  fhAinTVi  Kihitt^  T.^e.to4^ 
ance.    In  a  moment,  they  were  cut  to  pieces,  dispersed, 


BATTLE  OF  QUEBEC. 


99 


or  made  prisoners ;  while  men  after  men  came  swarming 
up  the  height,  and  quickly  formed  upon  the  plains  above. 
Meanwhile,  the  vessels  had  dropped  downward  with  the 
current,  and  anchored  opposite  the  landing-place.  The 
remaining  troops  were  disembarked,  and,  with  the  dawn 
of  day,  the  whole  were  brought  in  safety  to  the  shore. 

The  sun  rose,  and,  from  the  ramparts  of  Quebec,  the 
astonished  people  saw  the  Plains  of  Abraham  glittering 
with  arms,  and  the  dark-red  lines  of  the  English  forming 
in  array  of  battle.     Breathless  messengers  had  barne  the 
evil  tidings  to  Montcalm,  and  far  and  near  his  wide-ex- 
tended camp  resounded  with  the  rolling  of  alarm  drums 
and  the  din  of  startled  preparation.    He  too  had  had  his 
struggles  and  his  sorrows.    The  civ  il  power  had  thwarted 
him ;  famine,  discontent,  and  disaffection  were  rife  among 
his  soldiers ;  and  no  small  portion  of  the  Canadian  militia 
had  dispersed  from  sheer  starvation.    In  spite  of  all,  he 
had  trusted  to  hold  out  till  the  winter  frosts  should  drive 
the  invaders  from  before  the  town ;  when,  on  that  disas- 
trous morning,  the  news  of  their  successful  temerity  fell 
like  a  cannon  shot  upon  his  ear.     Still  he  assumed  a  tone 
of  confidence.    «  They  have  got  to  the  weak  side  of  us  at 
last,"  he  is  reported  to  have  said,  « and  we  must  crush 
them  with  our  numbers."    With  headlong  haste,  his 
troops  were  pouring  over  the  bridge  of  the  St.  Charles, 
and  gathering  in  heavy  masses  under  the  western  ram- 
parts of  the  town.     Could  numbers  give  assurance  of 
success,  their  triumph  would  have  been  secured ;  for  five 
French    battalions    and  the    armed  colonial  peasantry 
amounted  in  all  to  more  than  seven  thousand  five  hun- 
dred men.    Full  in  sight  before  them  stretched  the  long, 
thin  lines  of  the  British  forces— the  half- wild  Highland- 
ers, the  steady  soldiery  of  England,  and  the  hardy  levies 
of  the  provinces— less  than  five  thousand  in  number,  but 
all  inured  to  battle,  and  strong  in  the  full  assurance  of 
success.    Yet,  could  the  chiefs  of  that  gallant  army  have 
pierced  the  secrets  of  the  future,  could  they  have  foreseen 
that  the  victory  which  they  burned  to  achieve  would 


100 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


have  robbed  England  of  her  proudest  boast,  that  the  con- 
quest of  Canada  would  pave  the  way  for  the  independence 
of  America,  their  swords  would  have  dropped  from  their 
hands,  and  the  heroic  fire  have  gone  out  within  their 
hearts. 

It  was  nine  o'clock,  and  the  adverse  armies  stood  mo- 
tionless, each  gazing  on  the  other.  The  clouds  hung  low, 
and,  at  intervals,  warm  light  showers  descended,  be- 
sprinkling both  alike.  The  coppice  and  cornfields  in 
front  of  the  British  troops  were  filled  with  French  sharp- 
shooters, who  kept  up  a  distant,  spattering  fire.  Here 
and  there  a  soldier  fell  in  the  ranks,  and  the  gap  was 
filled  in  silence. 

At  a  little  before  ten,  the  British  could  see  that  Mont- 
calm was  preparing  to  advance,  and,  in  a  few  moments, 
all  his  troops  appea]|fed  in  rapid  motion.  They  came  on  in 
three  divisions,  shouting  after  the  manner  of  their  nation, 
and  firing  heavily  as  soon  as  they  came  within  range.  In 
the  British  ranks,  not  a  trigger  was  pulled,  not  a  soldier 
stirred ;  and  their  ominous  composure  seemed  to  damp 
the  spirits  of  the  assailants.  It  was  not  till  the  French 
were  within  forty  yards  that  the  fatal  word  was  given. 
At  once,  from  end  to  end  of  the  British  line,  the  muskets, 
rose  to  the  level,  as  if  with  the  sway  of  some  great  ma- 
chine, and  the  whole  blazed  forth  at  once  in  one  crashing 
explosion.  Like  a  ship  at  full  career,  arrested  with  sud- 
den ruin  on  a  sunken  rock,  the  columns  of  Montcalm 
staggered,  shivered,  and  broke  before  that  wasting  storm 
of  lead.  The  smoke,  rolling  along  the  field,  for  a  moment 
shut  out  the  view ;  but  when  the  white  wreaths  were 
scattered  on  the  wind,  a  wretched  spectacle  was  dis- 
closed ;  men  and  officers  tumbled  in  heaps,  columns  re- 
solved into  a  mob,  order  and  obedience  gone ;  and  when 
the  British  muskets  were  levelled  for  a  second  volley,  the 
masses  were  seen  to  cower  and  shrink  with  uncontrol- 
lable panic.  For  a  few  minutes,  the  French  regulars 
stood  their  oTOund-  retiiminc  a  ah  am  and  i^o^  inpfFectuni 
fire.    But  now,  echoing  cheer  on  cheer,  redoubling  volley 


DEATH  OF  WOLFE. 


101 


on  volley,  trampling  the  dying  and  the  dead,  and  driving 
the  fugitives  in  crowds ;  the  British  troops  advanced  and 
swept  the  field  before  them.  The  ardor  of  the  men  burst 
all  restraint.  They  broke  into  a  run,  and  with  unsparing 
slaughter  chased  the  flying  multitude  to  the  very  gates 
of  Quebec.  Foremost  of  all,  the  light-footed  pT^ghlanders 
dashed  along  in  furious  pursuit,  hewing  down  the  French- 
men with  their  broadswords,  and  slaying  many  in  the 
very  ditch  of  the  fortifications.  Never  was  victory  more 
quick  or  more  decisive. 

In  the  short  action  and  pursuit,  the  French  lost  fifteen 
hundred  men,  killed,  wounded,  and  taken.  Of  the  re- 
mainder, some  escaped  within  the  city,  and  others  fled 
across  the  St.  Charles  to  rejoin  their  comrades  who  had 
been  left  to  guard  the  camp.  The  pursuers  were  recalled 
by  sound  of  trumpet;  the  broker  ranks  were  formed 
afresh,  and  the  English  troops  withdrawn  beyond  reach 
of  the  cannon  of  Quebec.  Bougainville,  with  his  detach- 
ment, arrived  from  the  upper  country,  and,  hovering 
about  their  rear,  threatened  an  attack ;  but  when  he  saw 
what  greeting  was  prepared  for  him,  he  abandoned  his 
purpose  and  withdrew.  Townshend  and  Murray,  the 
only  general  officers  who  remained  unhurt,  passed  to  the 
head  of  every  regiment  in  turn,  and  thanked  the  soldiers 
for  tiie  bravery  they  had  shown ;  yet  the  triumph  of  the 
victors  was  mingled  with  sadness  as  the  tidings  went 
from  rank  to  rank  that  Wolfe  had  fallen. 

In  the  heat  of  the  action,  as  he  advanced  at  the  head  of 
the  grenadiers  of  Louisburg,  a  bullet  shattered  his  wrist ; 
but  he  wrapped  his  handkerchief  about  the  wound,  and 
showed  no  sign  of  pain.  A  moment  more,  and  a  ball 
pierced  his  side.  Still  he  pressed  forward,  waving  his 
sword  and  cheering  his  soldiers  to  the  attack,  when  a 
third  shot  lodged  deep  within  his  breast.  He  paused, 
reeled,  and  staggering  to  one  side,  fell  to  the  earth. 
Brown,  a  lieutenant  of  the  grenacMers,  Henderson,  a  vol- 
unteer, an  officer  of  artillery,  and  a  private  soldie7  raised 
him  together  m  their  arms,  and,  bearing  him  to  the  rear, 


102 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


laid  him  softly  on  the  grass.  They  asked  if  he  would 
have  a  surgeon ;  but  he  shook  his  head,  and  answered 
that  all  was  over  with  him.  His  eyes  closed  with  the 
torpor  of  approaching  death,  and  those  around  sustained 
his  fainting  form.  Yet  they  could  not  withhold  their 
gaze  from  the  wild  turmoil  before  them,  and  the  charging 
ranks  of  their  companions  rushing  through  fire  and 
smoke.  "See  how  they  run,"  one  of  the  officers  ex- 
claimed, as  the  French  fled  in  confusion  before  the 
levelled  bayonets.  "  Who  run  ?  "  demanded  Wolfe,  open- 
ing his  eyes  like  a  man  aroused  from  sleep.  "  The  en- 
emy, sir,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  they  give  way  everywhere." 
«  Then,"  said  the  dying  general,  "  tell  Colonel  Burton  to 
march  Webb's  regiment  down  to  Charles  River,  to  cut  oflE 
their  retreat  from  the  bridge.  Now,  God  be  praised,  I 
will  die  in  peace,'^  he  murmured ;  and,  turning  on  his 
side,  he  calmly  breathed  his  last.* 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  fell  his  great  adversary, 
Montcalm,  as  he  strove,  with  useless  bravery,  to  rally  his 
shattered  ranks.  Struck  down  with  a  mortal  wound,  he 
was  placed  upon  a  litter  and  borne  to  the  General  Hos- 
pital on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Charles.  The  surgeons  told 
him  that  he  could  not  recover.  "  I  am  glad  of  it,"  was 
his  calm  reply.  He  then  asked  how  long  he  might  sur- 
vive, and  was  told  that  he  had  not  many  hours  remain- 
ing. "  So  much  the  better,"  he  said ;  "  I  am  happy  that 
I  shall  not  live  to  see  the  surrender  of  Quebec."  Officers 
from  the  garrison  came  to  his  bedside  to  ask  his  orders 
and  instructions.  "  I  will  give  no  more  orders,"  replied 
the  defeated  soldier ;  « I  have  much  business  that  must 
be  attended  to,  of  greater  moment  than  your  ruined  garri- 
son and  this  wretched  country.  My  time  is  very  short ; 
therefore,  pray  leave  me."  The  officers  withdrew,  and 
none  remained  in  the  chamber  but  his  confessor  and  the 
Bishop  of  Quebec     To  the  last,  he  expressed  his  contempt 


*  Knox,  li.  78.    iknox  derived  his  informatiou  frointu^  persoa 
who  supported  Wolfe  in  his  dying  moments. 


SURRENDER  OF  QUEBEC.  103 

for  his  own  mutinous  and  half-famished  troops,  and  his 
admiration  for  the  disciplined  valor  of  hio  opponents 
He  died  before  midnight,  and  was  buried  at  his  own  de- 
8ire  in  a  cavity  of  the  earth  formed  by  the  bursting  of  a 
bombshell. 

The  victorious  army  encamped  before  Quebec,  and 
pushed  their  preparations  for  the  siege  with  zealous 
energy;  but  before  a  single  gun  was  brought  to  bear,  the 
white  flag  was  hung  out,  and  the  ararrison  surrendered 
On  the  eighteenth  of  September,  1759,  the  rock-built 
citadel  of  Canada  passed  forever  from  the  hands  of  its 
ancient  masters. 

The  victory  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham  and  the  down- 
fall  of  Quebec  filled  all  England  with  pride  and  exulta- 
tion. From  north  to  south,  the  whole  land  blazed  with 
illuminations,  and  resounded  with  the  ringing  of  bells,  the 
firing  of  guns,  and  the  shouts  of  the  multitude.  In 'one 
village  alone  all  was  dark  and  silent  amid  the  general 
joy;  for  here  dwelt  the  widowed  mother  of  Wolfe.  The 
populace,  with  unwonted  delicacy,  respected  her  lonely 
sorrow,  and  forbore  to  obtrude  the  sound  of  their  rejoic- 
ings upon  her  grief  for  one  who  had  been  through  life  her 
pride  and  solace,  and  repaid  her  love  with  a  tender  and 
constant  devotion. 

Canada,  crippled  and  dismembered  by  the  disasters  of 
this  year's  campaign,  lay  waiting,  as  it  were,  the  final 
stroke  which  was  to  extinguish  her  last  remains  of  life 
and  close  the  eventful  story  of  French  dominion  in 
America.  Her  limbs  and  her  head  were  lopped  away  bat 
life  still  fluttered  at  her  heart.  Quebec,  Niagara,  Fron- 
tenac,  and  Crown  Point  had  fallen ;  but  Montreal  and 
the  adjacent  country  still  held  out,  and  thither,  with  the 
opening  season  of  1760,  the  British  commanders  turned 
all  their  energies.  Three  armies  were  to  enter  Canada  afc 
three  several  points,  and,  conquering  as  they  advanced, 
converge  towards  Montreal  as  a  common  centre.  In  ac- 
cordance With  this  plan  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  embarked  at 
Oswego,  crossed  Lake  Ontario,  and  descended  the  St 


104 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Lawrence  with  ten  thousand  men ;  while  Colonel  Haviland 
advanced  by  way  of  Lake  Champlain  and  the  River  Sorel, 
and  General  Murray  ascended  from  Quebec,  with  a  body 
of  the  veterans  who  had  fought  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham. 
By  a  singular  concurrence  of  fortune  and  skill,  the  three 
armies  reached  the  neighborhood  of  Montreal  on  the  Same 
day.  The  feeble  and  disheartened  garrison  could  offer  no 
resistance,  and  on  the  eighth  of  September,  1760,  the 
Marquis  de  Vaudreuil  surrendered  Canada,  with  all  its 
dependencies,  to  the  British  crown. 


CHAPTER  V. 


TUB   WILDERNESS  AND  ITS  TENANTS    AT  THE  CLOSE  OP    THE 

FRENCH  WAR. 

We  have  already  seen  how,  after  the  defeat  of  Brad- 
dock,  the  western  tribes  rose  with  one  accord  against  the 
English.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  Pennsylvania  felt  the 
scourge  of  Indian  war  ;  and  her  neighbors,  Maryland  and 
Virginia,  shared  her  misery.  Through  the  autumn  of 
1755,  the  storm  raged  with  devastating  fury;  but  the 
following  year  brought  some  abatement  of  its  violence. 
This  may  be  ascribed  partly  to  the  interference  of  the 
Iroquois,  who,  at  the  instances  of  Sir  William  Johnson, 
urged  the  Dela wares  to  lay  down  the  hatchet,  and  partly 
to  the  persuasions  of  several  prominent  men  among  the 
Quakers,  who,  by  kind  and  friendly  treatment,  had  gained 
the  confidence  of  the  Indians.  By  these  means,  thai, 
portion  of  the  Delawares  and  their  kindred  tribes  who 
dwelt  upon  the  Susquehanna,  were  induced  to  send  a 
deputation  of  chiefs  to  Easton,  in  the  summer  of  1757,  to 
meet  the  provincial  delegates ;  and  here,  after  much  delay 
and  difficulty,  a  treaty  of  peace  was  concluded. 

This  treaty,  however,  did  not  embmce  the  Indians  of 
the  Ohio,  who  comprised  the  most  formidable  part  of  the 
Delawares  and  Shawanoes,  and  who  still  continued  their 
murderous  attacks.  It  was  not  till  the  summer  of  1758, 
when  General  Forbes,  with  a  considerable  army,  Was  ad- 
vancing against  Fort  du  Quesne,  that  these  exasperated 
savages  could  be  brought  to  reason.  Well  knowing  that, 
should  Forbes  prove  successful,  they  might  expect  a  sum- 
mary chastisement  for  their  misdeeds,  they  began  to  waver 
in  their  attachment  to  the  French :  and  the  latter,  in  tho 

105 


106 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


hour  of  peril,  found  themflelvea  threatened  with  desertion 
by  allies  who  had  shown  an  ample  alacrity  in  the  season 
of  prosperity.  This  new  tendency  of  the  Ohio  Indians 
was  fostered  by  a  wise  step  on  the  part  of  the  English. 
A  mar  was  found  bold  and  hardy  enough  to  venture  into 
the  midst  of  their  villages,  bearing  the  news  of  the  treaty 
at  Easton,  and  the  approach  of  Forbes,  coupled  with  pro- 
posals of  pepce  from  the  governor  of  Pennsylvania. 

This  stout-hearted  eiiiisstry  was  Christian  Frederic 
Post,  a  Moravian  miHsiouary,  who  had  lon,^  lived  wit!i  the 
Indians,  had  twice  '  arried  among  them,  and,  by  his  up- 
right dealings  and  plain  good  sense,  had  gained  their 
confidence  and  esteem.  Ilis  devout  and  conscientious 
spirit,  his  fidelity  to  what  he  deemea  his  duty,  his  im- 
perturbable courage,  his  prudence  and  his  address,  well 
fitted  him  for  the  qritical  mission.  Ilis  journals,  written 
in  a  style  of  quaint  simplicity,  are  full  of  lively  details, 
and  afford  a  minute  and  graphic  picture  of  forest  life  and 
character.  He  left  Philadelphia  in  July,  attended  by  a 
party  of  friendly  Indians,  on  whom  he  relied  for  protection. 
Reaching  the  Ohio,  he  found  himself  beset  with  incalcu- 
lable perils  from  the  jealousy  and  malevolence  of  the 
savage  warriors,  and  the  machinations  of  the  French, 
who  would  gladly  have  destroyed  him.*    Yet  he  found 

*  The  following  are  extracts  from  his  journals  : — 
*•  We  set  out  from  Kushkushkee  for  Sankonk ;  my  company 
conp^pted  of  twenty-five  hoi-semen  and  fifteen  foot.    We  arrived 
at  bcii.      T  tr  ;n  the  afternoon.    The  peoplfe  of  the  town  were  much 
dip     v-i.  my  con  ';ig,  and  received  me  in  a  very  rough  man- 

ner. i.ney  surrounded  me  with  drawn  knives  in  their  hands,  in 
such  a  manner  that  I  could  hardly  get  along ;  running  up  against 
me  with  their  breasts  open,  as  if  they  wanted  some  pretence  to 
kill  me.  I  saw  by  their  countenances  they  sought  my  death. 
Their  faces  were  quite  distorted  with  rage,  and  they  went  so  far 
as  to  say  I  should  not  live  long  ;  but  some  Indians,  with  whom 
1  was  formerly  acquainted,  coming  up  and  saluting  me  in  a 
friendly  manner,  their  behavior  to  me  was  quickly  changed." 
.  .  .  .  "  Some  of  my  party  desired  me  not  to  stir  from  the  fire, 

■P^^  4-'Uni-  t-Vta  "Wva-nnh  V\ar\  nfFaroi^  tx    rrvoaf  voixrnrH   fnr  mv  SP.J»1n.   nnd 

that  there  were  several  parties  out  on  that  purpose.    Accordingly 


THE  DELAWARES  AND  8HAWAN0ES.  107 

friends  wherever  he  went,  and  finally  succeeded  in  con- 
vincing the  Indians  that  their  true  interest  lay  in  a  strict 
neutrality.  When,  therefore,  Forbes  appeared  before  Fort 
Duquesne,  the  French  found  themselves  abandoned  to 
their  own  resources ;  and,  unable  to  hold  their  ground,  they 
retreated  down  the  Ohio,  leaving  the  fort  an  easy  conquest 

I  stuck  constantly  as  close  to  the  fire  as  if  I  had  been  chained 
there 

"In  the  afternoon,  all  the  captains  gathered  together  in  the 
middle  town  ;  they  sent  for  us,  and  desired  wo  should  give  them 
information  of  our  message.  Accordingly  we  did.  We  read  the 
message  with  great  satisfaction  to  t  hem.  It  was  a  great  pleasure 
both  to  them*  and  us.  The  numl)er  of  captains  and  counsellors 
were  sixteen.  In  the  evening,  messengers  arrived  from  Fort 
Duquesne,  with  a  string  of  wampum  from  the  commander ;  upon 
which  they  all  came  together  in  the  liouse  where  we  lodged.  The 
messengers  delivered  their  string,  with  these  words  from  their 
father,  the  French  king  : — 

•"My  children,  come  to  me,  and  hear  what  I  have  to  say.  The 
English  are  coming  with  an  army  to  destroy  both  you  and  me. 
I  therefore  desire  you  immediately,  my  children,  to  hasten  with 
all  the  young  men  ;  we  will  drive  the  English  and  destroy  them. 
I,  as  a  father,  will  tell  you  always  what  is  best.'  He  laid  the 
string  before  one  of  the  captains.  After  a  little  conversation,  the 
captain  stood  up,  and  said,  '  I  have  just  heard  something  of  our 
brethren,  the  English,  which  pleaseth  me  much  bettor.  I  will 
not  go.  Give  it  to  the  others  ;  maybe  they  will  go.'  The  mes- 
senger took  up  again  the  string,  and  said.  •  He  won't  go  ;  he 
has  heard  of  the  English.'  Tiien  all  cried  out,  '  Yes,  yes,  we  have 
heard  from  the  English.'  He  then  threw  the  string  to  the  other 
fire-place,  where  the  other  captains  v^ere  ;  but  they  kicked  it  from 
one  to  another,  as  if  it  was  a  snake.  Captain  Peter  took  a  stick, 
and  with  it  flung  the  string  from  one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other^ 
and  said,  •  Give  it  to  the  French  captain,  and  let  him  go  with  his 
young  men  ;  he  boasted  much  of  his  fighting  ;  now  let  us  see  his 
fighting.  We  have  often  ventured  our  lives  for  him ;  and  had 
hardly  a  loaf  of  bread  when  we  came  to  him  ;  and  now  he  thinks 
we  should  jump  to  serve  him.'  Then  we  saw  the  French  captain 
mortified  to  the  uttermost ;  he  looked  as  pale  as  death.  The 
Indians  discoursed  and  joked  till  midnight ;  and  the  French  cap- 
tain sent  messengers  at  midnight  to  Fort  Duquesne." 
^The  kicking  about  of  the  wampum  belt  is  the  usual  indication 
oi  contempt  for  the  message  of  which  the  belt  is  the  token.  The 
uses  of  wampum  will  be  described  hereafter. 


los 


Tin*:  ooNsiMRAcy  or  pontiao. 


to  Iho  InvHtltM'H.  DuvUtf?  t}u>  Lnttmin,  fhi>  Ohio  Indians 
Hont  tholr  «lo|>utloM  to  Kuiiton,  whoro  a  |jf»viit  coiim^il  wiiH 
hoM,  luui  a  foiMUrtl  poiu'«»  coiu'IiuUm    willr  tlu<  |)rovin<'t»H. 

\Vhll«»  ih«»  frlondwhip  of  (lu»so  t  .ibos  was  (Iuih  Umt  luul 
iH^^fnliUMl,  thoir  anoli»nl  tyrants,  tlH>  InxiuolH,  iHMnainnl  in 
u  st4»to  of  l<H»so  tind  orltiral  atta<<lunVnt.  At  iho  ontbnuik 
of  {lu»  war,  thov  luul  shown.  It.  is  iv\\{\  nmny  si^ns  of 
friendship;  hnt  tho  dlsastt>rs  of  tho  llrst  oanipalgn  had 
glvon  tluMn  hnt  a  oontouiptlbh*  Idoa  of  Hritish  i>rowoss. 
This  hnpnvMslon  was  dooponiMl,  whon,  on  tho  following 
ytMir,  tJu\v  saw  Oswo^:^^  tak(M\  hy  tho  Fn^tch,  and  tho 
Ihitlsh  ^ftMtoral,  Wt^hh,  rotrt»at  with  dastardly^haslo  fum\ 
an  onon»y  who  dul  not  <lrtnnn  of  p\nsuinp:  hhn.  At  this 
tlnu\  svuno  of  his  oonftnloratcs  aotnally  took  np  tho 
hatohot  on  tho  sido  of  Kr.nuv,  and  thor«»  was  danii^or  that 
tho  ivst  nnght  follow  thoir  o\an>plo.  Hnt  now  a  now 
oUMUont  was  infnsod  iiUo  tho  Hritish  oonnsols.  Tho  for- 
t\n»os  K\(  thi»  oontlii't  lH^g'5\n  to  ohang\\  i)n  Qnosno  and 
l.\>nlshuvj¥  woiv  takon,  and  tho  Irtmnoisoonooivod  a  hottor 
opinloti  of  tho  Hritish  arms.  Thoir  friomlship  was  no 
Um|jt>r  a  mattor  of  donht ;  and  in  17(>0,  wIumi  Amhorsfc 
wi»s  piViHU  ing  tv>  ailvanoo  on  ^hu^tr^\^l,  tho  warriors  tlookod 
t\^  his  oanip  liko  vnltnros  to  tho  oxpootod  oaroass.  Yot 
thoix*  is  litilo  donht,  that,  ha<l  thoir  vsaohonis  and  t>mtor8 
followed  tho  tiiotatos  of  thoir  tHH>lor  jndj;:n\ont,  thoy  wonld 
not  havo  aidod  in  dostnwini?  (^anada;  t\>r  thoy  oi add  see 
that  in  tho  inUonios  lU'  I'Vantv  lay  tho  only  hirrior  aj^piinst 
thojyixnving  iH>worand  anihition  of  Iho  Knjjjlish  provinws. 

Tho  UniNMis  of  l.tavtto,  tho  AlHMtakis,  ami  i>thor  dom- 
ioiliatod  trilvs  of  l^\nada  nuigxni  tluMnsolvos  on  tho  side 
of  Fiuniv  thixniirhont  tho  wur,  and  at  itvS  oonolnsion,  thoy, 
in  <H>n\n»on  with  tho  i^vnaiiians,  may  Ih>  ivg;udo<l  in  tlio 
li^jflU  of  a  iHMujnoriHl  imh>j>U\ 

Tho  nnmon>ns  trilvs  of  t!u>  n^noto  \>Tst  had,  with  few 
oxvvptiotis  playiHl  tho  v^ut  of  aotivo  allios  of  tho  Fixnioh  ; 
;md  wurriiM"s  mijjht  K»  t\>nnd  on  tlio  farthest  shores  of 
T.^ike 


%i~>t  V-<1iHicc     witli     t)tt> 


jjCiUivKvkjji  of  nuinleriHl  Ki\glishnion.     With  the  oonquest 


WESTERN  TKllJi:S-TIIE  FOUEST. 


109 


of  Canada,  Uu^ho  iiilHm  Hu))Ni(ht(l  into  aNtaU;  of  passive  iu- 
action,  \vhi(iii  waH  not  dostinttd  lon^  to  (!ontinue. 

An<l  now,  Ix^fore  lannciiing  into  tlio  story  of  that  san- 
pruiiiary  war,  whi(;li  forms  onr  i)roi)()r  and  inimodiato 
tJunms  it  will  bu  well  to  snrvoy  tlu^  grand  iinnui  of  the 
strife,  tho  goo<lly  h<!ri(4ig(»  whirh  tluj  wrotchod  tribes  of 
tlie  forest  struggled  to  retrieve  from  the  hands  of  tlie 
spoiler. 

One  vast>,  continuous  forest  shadowed  the  fertile  soil, 
covering  the  land  as  Dw  grass  (jovers  a  garden  lawn, 
sweeping  ov(U'  iiill  and  hollow  in  endless  undulation,  bury- 
ing inount-ains  in  verdun*,  and  mantling  brooks  and  rivers 
from  the  light  of  <lay.  ( Jreen  inUn'vals  dotU;d  with  brows- 
ing deer,  and  broad  ])lains  bhuikiuied  with  bufl'alo,  broke 
thci  sameness  of  the  W(M)dland  scenery.  Unnumbered 
rivers  seamed  the  for(\st  with  their  devious  windings. 
Vast  lakes  washed  its  boundaritjs,  where  the  Indian 
voyager,  in  the  birtih  canoe,  could  <les(;ry  no  land  beyond 
the  world  of  waters.  Yet  this  prolilic;  wilderness,  teem- 
ing with  wast^^  fiu'tility,  was  but  a  hunting-ground  and  a 
Ixittle-tteld  to  a  few  llerce  hordes  of  savages.  Here  and 
there,  in  some  rich  nunidow  op(»ned  to  the  sun,  the  Indian 
S(|uaws  turned  tlu^  black  nunild  with  their  rude  imple- 
ments of  bone  or  iron,  and  sowed  their  scanty  stores  of 
maize  and  btnms.  Human  labor  drew  no  other  tribute 
from  that  inexhaustible  soil. 

So  thin  and  scatt^u'ed  was  the  native  population,  that, 
even  in  those  parts  which  were  thought  well  peopled, 
one  might  sometimes  journey  for  days  together  through 
the  twilight  forest.,  and  meet  no  human  form.  Broad 
tracts  were  left  in  solitude.  All  Kentucky  was  a  vacant 
wastts  a  mere  skirmishing  ground  for  the  hostile  war- 
[>arties  of  the  north  and  south.  A  great  part  of  Upper 
Canada,  of  Michigan,  and  of  Illi'  >is,  besides  other  por- 
tions of  the  west>  were  tenanted  by  wild  beasts  alone. 
To  form  a  close  estimate  of  the  numl»ers  of  the  erratic 

b.^«^<l.-.   ...1..-V    ..>^.x....,^    *!.;.,    ...:i.i«. „., i.j  v..    _    i.-    _j. 

tempt ;  but  it  may  be  affirmed  that,  between  the  Missis- 


^1 


i!     •  j 


-4  - 


I 


110 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


i' 


sippi  on  the  west  and  the  ocean  on  the  east,  between  the 
Ohio  on  the  south  and  Lake  Superior  on  the  north,  the 
whole  Indian  population,  at  the  close  of  the  French  war, 
did  not  greatly  exceed  ten  thousand  fighting  men.  Of 
these,  following  the  statement  of  Sir  William  Johnson 
in  1763,  the  Iroquois  had  nineteen  hundred  and  fifty,  the 
Delawares  about  six  hundred,  the  Shawanoes  about  three 
hundred,  the  Wyandots  about  four  hundred  and  fifty,  and 
the  Miami  tribes,  with  their  neighbors  the  Kickapoos, 
eight  hundred ;  while  the  Ottawas,  the  Ojibwas,  and  other 
wandering  tribes  of  the  north,  defy  all  efforts  at  enu- 
meration. 

A  close  survey  of  the  condition  of  the  tribes  at  this 
period  will  detect  some  signs  of  improvement,  but  many 
more  of  degeneracy  and  decay.  To  commence  with  the 
Iroquois,  for  to  thtem  with  justice  the  priority  belongs ; 
Onondaga,  the  ancient  capital  of  their  confederacy,  where 
their  council-fire  had  burned  from  immemorial  time,  was 
now  no  longer  what  it  had  been  in  the  days  of  its  great- 
ness, when  Count  Frontenac  had  mustered  all  Canada  to 
assail  it.  The  thickly-clustered  dwellings,  with  their 
triple  rows  of  palisades,  had  vanished.  A  little  stream, 
twisting  along  the  valley,  choked  up  with  logs  and  drift- 
wood, and  half  hidden  by  woods  and  thickets,  some  forty 
houses  of  bark,  scattered  along  its  banks,  amid  rank  grass, 
neglected  clumps  of  bushes,  and  ragged  patches  of  corn 
and  peas, — such  was  Onondaga  when  Bartram  saw  it,  and 
such,  no  doubt,  it  remained  at  the  time  of  which  I  write. 
Conspicuous  among  the  other  structures,  and  distin- 
guished only  by  its  superior  size,  stood  the  great  council- 
house,  whose  bark  walls  had  often  sheltered  the  con- 
gregated wisdom  of  the  confederacy,  and  heard  the 
highest  efforts  of  forest  eloquence.  The  ot.xer  villages  of 
the  Iroquois  resembled  Onondaga;  for  though  several 
were  of  larger  size,  yet  none  retained  those  defensive 
stockades  which  had  once  protected  them.  From  their 
xiiuropean  neighbors  the  Iroquois  had  boirowed  many  ap- 
pliances of  comfort  and  subsistence.    Horses,  swine,  and 


NATIVE  POPULATION. 


Ill 


in  some  instances  cattle,  were  to  be  found  among  them. 
Guns  and  gunpowder  aided  them  in  the  chase.  Knives, 
hatchets,  kettles,  and  hoes  of  iron  had  supplanted  their 
rude  household  utensils  and  implements  of  tillage;  but 
with  all  this,  English  whiskey  had  more  than  cancelled 
every  benefit  which  English  civilization  had  conferred. 

High  up  the  Susquehanna  were  seated  the  Nanticokes, 
Conoys,  and  Mohicans,  with  a  portion  of  che  Dcla wares. 
Detached  bands  of  the  western  Iroquois  dwelt  upon  the 
head  waters  of  the  Alleghany,  mingled  with  their  neigh- 
bors, the  Dela wares,  who  had  several  villages  upon  this 
stream.  The  great  body  of  the  latter  nation,  however, 
lived  upon  the  Beaver  Creeks  and  the  Muskingum,  in 
numerous  scattered  towns  and  hamlets,  whose  barbarous 
names  it  is  useless  to  record.  Squalid  log  cabins  and 
conical  wigwams  of  bark  were  clustered  at  random,  or 
ranged  to  form  rude  streets  and  squares.  Starveling 
horses  grazed  on  the  neighboring  meadows;  girls  and 
children  bathed  and  laughed  in  the  adjacent  river; 
warriors  smoked  their  pipes  in  haughty  indolence ; 
squaws  labored  in  the  cornfields,  or  brought  fagots  from 
the  forest,  and  shri\  jlled  hags  screamed  from  lodge  to 
lodge.  In  each  village  one  large  building  stood  prom- 
inent among  the  rest,  devoted  to  purposes  of  public 
meeting,  dances,  festivals,  and  the  entertamment  of  stran- 
gers. Thither  the  traveller  would  be  conducted,  seated 
on  a  bear-skin,  and  plentifully  regaled  with  hominy  and 
venison. 

The  Shawanoes  had  fixed  their  abode  upon  the  Scioto 
and  its  branches.  Farther  towards  the  west,  on  the 
waters  of  the  Wabash  and  the  Maumee,  dwelt  the  Miamis, 
who,  less  exposed,  from  their  position,  to  the  poison  of 
the  whiskey  keg,  and  the  example  of  debauched  traders, 
retained  their  ancient  character  and  customs  in  greater 
purity  than  their  eastern  neighbors.  This  cannot  be  said 
of  the  Illinois,  who  dwelt  near  the  borders  of  the 
''■-'•  ••i'x'>  «ii'>^t.  rriiw,  iidving  iiveu.  lur  iiiure  uian 
half  a  century  in  close  contact  with  the  French,  had 


II 


i        li 


'  h 


4     r 


112 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


become  a  corrupt  and  degenerate  race.  The  Wyan- 
dots  of  Sandusky  and  Detroit  far  surpassed  the  sur- 
rounding tribes  in  energy  of  character  and  social  prog- 
ress. Their  log  dwellings  were  strong  and  commodious, 
their  agriculture  was  very  considerable,  their  name  stood 
high  in  war  and  policy,  and  by  all  the  adjacent  Indians 
they  were  regarded  with  deference.  It  is  needless  to 
pursue  farther  this  catalogue  of  tribes,  since  the  position 
of  each  will  appear  hereafter  as  they  advance  in  turn 
upon  the  stage  of  action. 

The  English  settlements  lay  like  a  narrow  strip  be- 
tween the  wilderness  and  the  sea,  and,  as  the  sea  had 
its  ports,  so  also  the  forest  had  its  places  of  rendezvous 
and  outfit.  Of  these,  by  far  the  most  important  in  the 
northern  provinces  was  the  frontier  city  of  Albany. 
From  thence  it  w^^s  that  traders  and  soldiers,  bound  to 
the  country  of  the  Iroquois,  or  the  more  distant  wilds  of 
the  interior,  set  upon  their  arduous  journey.  Embark- 
ing in  a  bateau  or  a  canoe,  rowed  b>  those  hardy  men 
who  earned  their  livelihood  in  this  service,  the  traveller 
would  ascend  the  Mohawk,  passing  the  old  Dutch  town 
of  Schenectady,  the  two  seats  of  Sir  William  Johnson, 
Fort  Hunter  at  the  mouth  of  the  Schoharie,  and  Fort 
Herkimer  at  the  German  Flats,  until  he  reached  Fort 
Stanwix  at  the  head  of  the  river  navigation.  Then 
crossing  overland  to  Wood  Creek,  he  would  follow  its 
tortuous  course,  overshadowed  by  the  dense  forest 
on  its  banks,  until  he  arrived  at  ^the  little  fortification 
called  the  Royal  Blockhouse,  and  the  waters  of  the  Oneida 
Lake  spread  before  him.  Crossing  to  its  western  extremity, 
and  passing  under  the  wooden  ramparts  of  Fort  Brewer- 
ton,  he  would  descend  the  River  Oswego  to  Oswego,* 

*  MS.  Journal  of  Lieutenant  Gorell,  1763.  Annoymous  MS. 
Journal  of  a  Tour  to  Niagara  in  1765.  The  following  is  an  ex- 
tract from  the  latter  : — 

'•July  2d.  Dined  with  Sir  Wm.  at  Johnson  Hall.  The  office 
of  Superintendent  very  troublesome.  Sir  vVm.  continually 
plagued  with  Indians  about  him— generally  from  300  to  900  in 


THE  FOREST  TRAVELLER. 


113 


on  the  banks  of  Lake  Ontario.  Here  the  vast  navigations 
of  the  Great  Lakes  would  be  open  before  him,  interrupted 
only  by  the  difficult  portage  at  the  Cataract  of  Niagara. 
The  chief  thoroughfare  from  the  middle  colonies  to  the 
Indian  country  was  from  Philadelphia  westward,  across 
the  Alleghanies,  to  the  valley  of  the  Ohio.  Peace  was  no 
sooner  concluded  with  the  hostile  tribes,  than  the  adven- 
turous fur-traders,  careless  of  risk  to  life  and  property, 
hastened  over  the  mountains,  each  eager  to  be  foremost 
in  the  wilderness  market.  Their  merchandise  was  some- 
times carried  in  wagons  as  far  as  the  site  of  Fort  du 
Quesne,  which  the  English  rebuilt  after  its  capture,  chang- 
ing its  name  to  Fort  Pitt.  From  this  point  the  goods 
were  packed  on  the  backs  of  horses,  and  thus  distributed 
among  the  various  Indian  villages.  More  commonly, 
however,  the  whole  journey  was  performed  by  means  of 
trains,  or,  as  they  were  called,  brigades  of  packhorses, 
which,  leaving  the  frontier  settlements,  climbed  the 
shadowy  heights  of  the  Alleghanies,  and  threaded  the 
forests  of  the  Ohio,  diving  through  thickets,  and  wading 


number— spoil  his  garden,  and  keep  his  house  always  dirty.  .  .  . 

"  10th.  Punted  and  rowed  up  the  Mohawk  River  against  the 
stream  which,  on  account  of  tlie  rapidity  of  the  current,  is  very 
hard  work  for  the  poor  soldiers.  Encamped  on  the  banks  of  the 
River,  about  9  miles  from  Harkimer's. 

"  The  inconveniences  attending  a  married  Subaltern  strongly 
appear  in  this  tour.  What  with  the  sickness  of  their  wives,  tlie 
squealing  of  their  children,  and  the  smallness  of  their  pay,  I 
think  the  gentlemen  discover  no  common  share  of  philosophy  in 
keeping  themselves  from  running  mad.  Officers  and  soldiei-s, 
with  their  wives  and  children,  legitimate  and  illegitimate,  make 
altogether  a  pretty  compound  oglio,  which  does  not  tend  towards 
showing  military  matrimony  off  to  any   great  advantage.  .  .  . 

'•  Monday,  14th.  Went  on  horseback  by  the  side  of  Wood  Creek 
20  miles,  to  the  Royal  Blockhouse,  a  kind  of  wooden  castle,  proof 
against  any  Indian  attacks.  It  is  now  abandoned  by  the  troops, 
and  a  Sutler  lives  there,  who  keeps  rum,  milk,  rackoons,  etc., 
which,  though  none  of  the  most  elegant,  is  comfortable  to 
strangers  passing  that  way.  The  Blockhouse  is  situated  on  the 
east  end  of  the  Oneida  Lake,  and  is  surrounded  by  the  Oneida 
Indians,  one  of  the  Six  Nations." 


I'l 


1  i    I'll 


lU 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


0V3r  streams.  The  men  employed  in  this  perilous  call- 
ing were  a  rough,  bold,  and  intractable  class,  often  as 
fierce  and  truculent  as  the  Indians  themselves.  A 
blanket  coat,  or  a  frock  of  smoked  deer-skin,  a  rifle  on 
the  shoulder,  and  a  knife  and  tomahawk  in  the  belt, 
formed  their  ordinary  equipment.  The  principal  trader, 
he  owner  of  the  merchandise,  would  fix  his  headquarters 
t  some  large  Indian  town,  whence  he  would  despatch  his 
subordinates  to  the  surrounding  villages,  with  a  suitable 
supply  of  blankets  and  red  cloth,  guns  and  hatchets, 
liquor,  tobacco,  paint,  beads,  and  hawk's  bells.  This  wild 
trafiac  was  liable  to  every  species  of  disorder;  and  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that,  in  a  region  where  law  was 
unknown,  the  jealousies  of  rival  traders  should  become  a 
fruitful  source  of  broils,  robberies,  and  murders. 

In  the  backwoods,  all  land  travelling  was  on  foot,  or  on 
horseback.    It    was   no  easy  matter  for  a  novice,  em- 
barrassed  with   his    cumbrous  gun,   to  urge   his  horse 
through  the  thick  trunks  and  undergrowth,  or  even  to 
ride  at  speed  along  the  narrow  Indian  trails,  where,  at 
every  yard,  the  impending  branches  switched  him  across 
the  face.     At  night,  the  camp  would  be  formed  by  the 
side  of  some  rivulet  or  spring,  and,  if  the  traveller  was 
skilful  in  the  use  of  his  rifle,  a  haunch  of  venison  would 
often  form  his  evening  meal.    If  it  rained,  a  shed  of  elm 
or  bass  wood  bark  was  the  ready  work  of  an  hour,  a 
pile  of  evergreen  boughs  formed  a  bed,  and  the  saddle  or 
the  knapsack   a   pillow.     A  party  of  Indian  wayfarers 
would  often  be  met    journeying  through  the   forest,  a 
chief,  or  a  warrior,  perhaps,  with  his  squaws  and  family. 
The  Indians   would   usually   make    their   camp  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  white  men ;  and  at  meal  time  the 
warrior  would  seldom  fail  to  seat  himself  by  the  traveller's 
fire,  and  gaze  with  solemn  gravity  at  the  viands  before 
him.    If,  when  the  repast  was  over,  a  fragment  of  bi  ead 
or  a  cup  of  coffee  should  be  handed  to  him,  he  would  re- 
ceive these  hierhlv-nrized  rarities  with  a  dppn  pianniafion 
of  gratitude;    for  nothing  is  more  remarkable   in  the 


THE  FOREST  TRAVELL  .R. 


115 


character  of  this  people  than  the  union  of  inordinate  pride 
and  a  generous  love  of  glory  with  the  mendicity  of  a 
beggar  or  a  child. 

He  who  wished  to  visit  the  remoter  tribes  of  the  Miss- 
issippi valley — an  attempt,  however,  which,  until  several 
years  after  the  conquest  of  Canada,  no  Englishman  could 
have  made  without  great  risk  of  losing  his  scalp — would 
find  no  easier  course  than  to  descend  the  Ohio  in  a  canoe 
or  bateau.  He  might  float  fo^  more  than  eleven  hundred 
miles  down  this  liquid  highway  of  the  wilderness,  and 
except  the  deserted  cabins  of  Logstown,  a  little  below 
Fort  Pitt,  the  remnant  of  a  Shawanoe  village  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Scioto,  and  an  occasional  hamlet  or  solitary 
wigwam  along  the  luxuriant  banks,  he  would  discern  no 
trace  of  human  habitancy  through  all  this  vast  extent. 
The  body  of  the  Indian  population  lay  to  the  northward, 
about  the  waters  of  the  tributary  streams.  It  behoved 
the  voyager  to  observe  a  sleepless  caution  and  hawk-eyed 
vigilance.  Sometimes  his  anxious  scrutiny  would  detect 
a  faint  blue  smoke  stealing  upward  above  the  green  bosom 
of  the  forest,  and  betraying  the  encamping  place  of  some 
lurking  war-party.  Then  the  canoe  would  be  drawn  in 
haste  beneath  the  overhanging  bushes  which  skirted  the 
shore ;  nor  would  the  voyage  be  resumed  until  darkness 
closed,  when  the  little  vessel  would  drift  swiftly  and 
safely  past  the  point  of  danger. 

Within  the  nominal  limits  of  the  Illinois  Indians,  and 
towards  the  southern  extremity  of  the  present  state  of 
Illinois,  were  those  isolated  Canadian  settlements,  which 
had  subsisted  here  since  the  latter  part  of  the  previous 
century.  Kaskaskia,  Cahokia,  and  Vincennes  were  the 
centres  of  this  scattered  population.  From  Vincennes 
one  might  paddle  his  canoe  northward  up  the  Wabash, 
until  he  reached  the  little  wooden  fort  of  Ouatanon. 
Thence  a  path  through  the  woods  led  to  the  banks  of  the 
Maumee.  Two  or  three  Canadians,  or  half  breeds,  of 
Vvho~i  there  were  nunibers  about  the  fort,  would  carry 
the  canoe  on  their  shoulders,  or,  for  a  bottle  of  whiskey, 


'':  H] 


.!\ea 


fff^mw 


116 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


n  m 


a  few  Miami  Indians  might  be  brilied  to  undertake  the 
task.  On  the  Maumee,  at  the  end  of  the  path,  stood  Fort 
Miami,  near  the  spot  where  Fort  Wayne  was  afterwards 
built.  From  this  point  one  might  descend  the 
Maumee  to  Lake  Erie,  and  visit  the  neighboring-  fort  of 
Sandusky,  or,  if  he  chose,  steer  througli  the  Strait  of 
Detroit,  and  explore  the  watery  wastes  of  the  northern 
lakes,  finding  occasional  harborage  at  the  little  military 
posts  which  commanded  their  important  points.  Most 
of  these  western  posts  were  transferred  to  the  English, 
during  the  autumn  of  1760 ;  but  the  settlements  of  the 
Illinois  remained  several  years  longer  under  French 
control. 

Eastward,  on  the  waters  of  Lake  Erie  and  the  Al- 
leghany, stood  three  small  forts,  Presqu'Isle,  Le  Boeuf, 
and  Venango,  which  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  the 
English  soon  after  the  capture  of  Fort  du  Quesne.  The 
feeble  garrisons  of  all  these  western  posts,  exiled  from 
civilization,  lived  in  the  solitude  of  military  hermits. 
Through  the  long,  hot  days  of  summer,  and  the  protracted 
cold  of  winter,  time  hung  heavy  on  their  hands.  Their 
resources  of  employment  and  recreation  were  few  and 
meagre.  They  found  partners  in  their  loneliness  among 
the  young  beauties  of  the  Indian  camps.  They  hunted 
and  fished,  and  shot  at  targets,  and  played  at  games  of 
chance ;  and  when,  by  good  fortune,  a  traveller  found  his 
way  among  them,  he  was  greeted  with  a  hearty  and  open- 
handed  welcome,  and  plied  with  Ct^er  questions  touching 
the  great  world  from  which  they  were  banished  men. 
Yet,  tedious  as  it  was,  their  secluded  life  was  seasoned 
with  stirring  danger.  The  surrounding  forests  were 
people  I  with  a  race  dark  and  subtle  as  their  own  sunless 
mazes.  At  any  hour,  those  jealous  tribes  might  raise 
the  war-cry.  No  human  foresight  could  predict  the  sal- 
lies of  their  fierce  caprice,  and  in  ceaseless  watching  lay 
the  only  safety. 

When  the  Europ3an  and  the  savage  are  brought  in 
contact,   both  arc  gainers,  and  both  are  losers."   The 


HUNTERS  AND  TRAPPERS.  nj 

former  loses  the  refinements  o(  civilization,  but  he  (tains, 
m  the  rough  schooling  of  the  wilderness,  a  proud  inde- 
pendence, a  self-sustaining  energy,  and  powers  of  action 
an<l  perception  before  unthought  of.  The  savage  gains 
new  means  o  comfort  and  support,  cloth,  iron,  and  gun- 
powder;  yet  these  apparent  benefits  have  often  proved 
bu  mstruments  of  run..  They  soon  become  necessities, 
and  the  unhappy  hunter,  forgetting  the  weapons  of  hi.s 
fathers,  must  thenceforth  depend  on  the  white  man  for 
ease,  happiness,  and  life  itself. 

Tho.se  rude  and  hardy  men,  hunters  and  traders,  scouts 
and  guides  who  ranged  the  woods  beyond  the  English 
borders,  and  formed  a  connecting  link  between  barbarism 
and  civihzation,  have  been  touched  upon  already.     Thev 
wore  a  distinct,  peculiar  class,  marked  with  striking  con- 
tiasts  of  good  and  evil.    Many,  though  by  no  mea^s  all 
were  coarse,  audacious,  and  unscrupulous ;  yet,  even  i^  the 
worst,  one  might  often  have  found  a  vigorous  growth  of 
warlike  virtues,  an  iron  endurance,  an  undespairinTcour- 
age,  a  wondrous  sagacity,  and  singular  fertility  of  resource 
In  theni  was  renewed,  with  all  its  ancient  energy,  thtt 
wild  and  daring  spirit,  that  force  and  hardihood  oYmind 
which  marked  our  barbarous  ancestors  of  Germanv  S 
Norway.    These  sons  of  the  wilderness  still  su^vve 
tleorj       •*  *1r  ^  '^''  ■^'^y-  "0*  '"  the  valley  of 
on  the  desert  range  of  the  buffalo,  and  among  the  soli- 
tudes  of  Oregon.    Even  now,  while  I  write,  some  lone  y 
trapper  is  climbing  the  perilous   defiles  of  the  Ckv 

skhrS'"  .«t~ng  frame  cased  in  time-worn  Zck! 
skill,  his  rifle  griped  m  his  sinewy  hand.  Keenly  he  peers 
from  side  to  side,  lest  Blackfoot  or  Arapahoe  should  am! 
buseade  his  path  The  rough  earth  is  his  bed,  a  mor^l 
of  dried  meat  and  a  .Uaught  of  wat^r  are  his  food  aM 
tank,  and  death  and  danger  his  companions.  No  ancho- 
;!n,,Ti^*?;™  r^««.  >?o  hero  could  dare  more;  yet  his 
wield nrfl'";;  "''^„«*'«"«»»  'Charms;  and,  while  he  can 
wield  a  rifle,  he  wiU  never  leave  it.    Go  with  him  to  the 


I 


til 


,1 
-I 


,iii 


,    1 


}• 


•IM 


ii' 

'H 


ii 


I 

H    'If 


ni 


118 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


lendezvous,  and  he  is  a  stoic  no  more.  Here,  rioting 
among  liis  comrades,  his  native  appetites  break  loose  in 
mad  excess,  in  deep  carouse,  and  desperate  gaming. 
Then  follow  close  the  quarrel,  the  challenge,  the  light, — 
two  rusty  rifles  and  fifty  yards  of  prairie. 

The  nursling  of  civilization,  placed  in  the  midst  of  the 
forest,  and  abandoned  to  his  own  resources,  is  helpless  as 
an  infant.  There  is  no  clew  to  the  labyrinth.  Bewildered 
and  amazed,  he  circjles  round  and  round  in  hopeless 
wanderings.  Des[)air  and  famine  make  him  their  prey 
and  unless  the  birds  of  heaven  minister  to  his  wants,  lie 
dies  in  misery.  Not  so  the  practised  woodsman.  To 
him,  the  forest  is  a  home.  It  yields  him  food,  shelter, 
and  raiment,  and  he  threads  its  trackless  depths  with 
undeviating  foot.  To  lure  the  game,  to  circumvent  the 
lurking  foe,  to  guide  his  course  by  the  stars,  the  wind, 
the  streams  or  the  trees,— such  are  the  arts  which  the 
white  man  has  learned  from  the  red.  Often,  indeed,  the 
pupil  has  outstripped  his  master.  He  can  hunt  as  well ; 
he  can  flght  better ;  and  yet  there  are  niceties  of  the 
woodsman's  craft  in  which  the  white  man  must  yield  the 
palm  to  his  savage  rival.  Seldom  can  he  boast,  in  equal 
measure,  that  subtlety  of  sense,  more  akin  to  the  instinct 
of  brutes  than  to  human  reason,  which  reads  the  signs  of 
the  forest  as  the  scholar  reads  the  printed  page,  to  which 
the  whistle  of  a  bird  can  speak  clearly  as  the  tongue  of 
man,  and  the  rustle  of  a  leaf  give  knowledge  of  life  or 
death.*    With  us  the  name  of  the  gavage  is  a  byword  of 

*A  striking  example  of  Indian  acuteness  once  came  under  my 
observation.  Travelling  in  company  with  a  Canadian  named 
Raymond,  and  an  Ogillallah  Indian,  we  came  at  nightfall  to  a 
small  stream  called  Chugwater,  a  branch  of  Laramie  Creek. 
As  we  prepared  to  encamp,  we  observed  the  aslies  of  a  fire,  the 
footprints  of  men  and  horses,  and  other  indications  that  a  party 
had  been  upon  the  spot  not  many  days  before.  Having  secured 
our  horses  for  the  night,  Raymond  and  I  sat  down  and  lighted  our 
pipes,  my  companion,  who  had  spent  his;  whole  life  in  the  Indian 

COlinfrV.    hazarniinor    vai'i'^'io    rrtniani-ttfaa     na    4-n    *K^.».-~.l J 

-,  ,  .   j_,    T — i , j.,5 ,^.^., ._^.,-,   „,,-,   ^[}   flic  injniiuvia  ixiiti 

character  of  our  predecessors.    Soon  after,  we  were  joined  by  the 


THE  EUROPEAN  AND  THE  INDIAN. 


119 


reproach.  The  Indian  would  look  with  equal  scorn  on 
those,  who,  buried  in  useless  lore,  are  blind  and  deaf  to 
the  great  world  of  nature. 

Indian,  who,  meantime,  had  been  prow  inf?  al)out  the  place 
Raymond  asked  what  discovery  he  had  made.  He  answered 
that  the  party  were  friendly,  and  timt  they  consisted  of  eiglit 
men,  both  whites  and  Indians,  several  of  whom  he  named,  affirm- 
iiig  that  he  knew  them  well.  To  an  inquiry  how  he  gained  his 
information,  he  would  make  no  intelligible  reply.  On  the  next 
day,  reaching  Fort  Laramie,  a  post  of  the  American  Fur  Com- 
pany, we  found  that  he  was  correct  in  every  particular— a  cir- 
cumstance the  more  remarkable,  as  he  had  been  with  us  for 
three  weeks,  and  could  have  had  no  other  means  of  knowledge 
than  we  ourselves. 


m 


>t\ 


: 
: 

I 

. 

i 


t    Li 


I  Yi 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE  ENGLISH  TAKE  POSSESSION  OF  THE  WESTERN  POSTS. 


The  war  was  over.  The  plains  around  Montreal  were 
dotted  with  the  white  tents  of  three  victorious  armies, 
and  the  work  of  conquest  was  complete.  Canada,  with 
all  her  dependencies,  had  yielded  to  the  British  crown ; 
but  it  still  remained  to  carry  into  full  effect  the  terms  of 
the  surrender  and  take  possession  of  those  western  out- 
posts, where  the  lilies  of  France  had  not  as  yet  descended 
from  the  flagstaff.  The  execution  of  this  task,  neither  an 
easy  nor  a  safe  one,  was  assigned  to  a  provincial  officer, 
Major  Robert  Rogers. 

Rogers  was  a  native  of  New  Hampshire.  He  commanded 
a  body  ot  provincial  rangers,  and  stood  in  high  repute  as 
a  partisan  offioer.  Putnam  and  Stark  were  his  associates ; 
and  it  was  in  this  woodland  warfare  that  the  former 
achieved  many  of  those  startling  adventures  and  hair- 
breadth escapes  which  have  made  his  name  familiar  at 
every  New  England  fireside.  Rogers'  Rangers,  half 
hunters,  half  woodsmen,  trained  in  a  discipline  of  their 
own,  and  armed,  like  Indians,  with  hatchet,  knife,  and 
gun,  were  employed  in  a  service  of  peculiar  hardship. 
Their  chief  theatre  of  action  was  the  mountainous  region 
of  Lake  George,  the  debatable  ground  between  the  hostile 
forts  of  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point.  The  de'3pest  re- 
cesses of  these  romantic  solitudes  had  heard  the  French 
and  Indian  yell,  and  the  answering  shout  of  the  hardy 
New  England  men.  In  summer,  they  passed  down  the 
lake  in  whale-boats  or  canoes,  or  threaded  the  pathways 
of  the  woods  in  single  file,  like  the  savages  themselves. 
120 


ROGERS'  RANGERS. 


121 


In  wix.cjr,  they  journeyed  through  the  swamps  on  snow- 
slioes,  skated  ahjng  the  frozen  surface  of  the  lake,  and 
bivouacked  at  night  among  the  snow-drifts.  They  inttu-- 
cepted  French  messengers,  encounttM-ed  French  scouting 
parties,  and  carried  off  prisoners  from  under  the  very 
walls  of  Ticonderoga.  Their  hardships  and  adventures, 
their  marches  and  countermarclies,  their  fretiuent  skir- 
mishes and  midwinter  battles,  had  made  them  famous 
throughout  America ;  and  though  it  was  the  fashion  of 
the  day  to  sneer  at  the  effort.^  of  provincial  troops,  the 
name  of  Rogers'  Rangers  was  never  mentioned  but  with 
honor. 

Their  commander  was  a  man  tall  and  \ ''vorous  in  per- 
son and  rough  in  feature.  He  was  versed  in  all  the  arts 
of  woodcraft,  sagacious,  prompt,  and  resolute,  yet  so  cau- 
tious withal  that  he  sometimes  incurred  the  unjust  charge 
of  cowardice.  His  mind,  naturally  active,  was  by  no 
means  uncultivated,  and  his  books  and  unpublished  letters 
bear  witness  that  his  style  as  a  writer  was  not  con- 
temptible. But  his  vain,  restless,  and  grasping  spirit, 
and  more  than  doubtful  honesty,  proved  the  ruin  of  an 
enviable  reputation.  Six  years  after  the  expedition  of 
which  I  am  about  to  speak,  he  was  tried  by  a  court- 
martial  for  a  meditated  act  of  treason,  the  surrender  of 
P'ort  Michillimackinac  into  uie  hands  of  the  Spaniards, 
who  were  at  that  time  masters  of  Upper  Louisiana.  N'ot 
long  after,  if  we  may  trust  his  own  account,  he  passed 
over  to  the  Barbary  States,  entered  the  service  of  the  Dey 
of  Algiers,  and  fought  two  battles  under  his  banners.  At 
the  opening  of  the  war  of  independence,  he  returned  to  his 
native  country,  where  he  made  professions  of  patriotism, 
but  was  strongly  suspected  by  many,  Including  Washing- 
ton himself,  of  acting  the  part  of  a  spy.  In  fact,  he  soon 
openly  espoused  the  British  cause,  and  received  a  colonel's 
commission  from  the  crown.  His  services,  however, 
proved  of  little  consequence.  In  1778,  he  was  proscribed 
and  banished,  under  the  act  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
the  remainder  of  his  life  was  passed  in  such  obscurity 


■  ■'J 


I     '1 

n 


122 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


that  it   is   difficult   tc   determine  when  and  where   he 
died.* 

On  the  twelfth  of  September,  1760,  Rogers,  then  at  the 
height  of  his  reputation,  received  orders  from  Sir  Jeffrey 
Amherst  to  ascend  the  lakes  with  a  detachment  of  rangers, 
and  take  possession,  in  the  name  of  his  Britannic  Majesty, 
of  Detroit,  Michillimackinac,  and  other  western  posts  in- 
cluded in  the  late  capitulation.  He  left  Montreal,  on  the 
following  day,  with  two  hundred  rangers,  in  fifteen  whale 
boats.  They  passed  the  chapel  of  St.  Anne's,  where 
Canadian  voyageurs,  bound  for  the  north-west,  received 
absolution  and  paid  their  votive  offerings.  Stemming  the 
surges  of  La  Chine  and  the  Cedars,  they  left  behind  them 
the  straggling  hamlet  which  bore  the  latter  name,  and 
formed  at  that  day  the  western  limit  of  Canadian  settle- 
ment. They  gained  Lake  Ontario,  skirted  its  northern 
shore,  amid  rough  and  boisterous  weather,  and  crossing  at 
its  western  extremity,  reached  Fort  Niagara  on  the  first 
of  October.  Carrying  their  boats  over  the  portage,  they 
launched  once  more  above  the  cataract,  and  slowly  pur- 
sued their  voyage,  while  Rogers,  with  a  few  attendants, 
hastened  on  in  advance  to  Fort  Pitt,  to  deliver  despatches, 
with  which  he  was  charged,  to  General  Monkton.  This 
errand  accomplished,  he  rejoined  his  command  at  Presqu'- 

*  An  engraved  full-length  portrait  of  Rogers  was  published  in 
London  in  1776.  He  is  represented  as  a  tall,  strong  man,  dressed 
in  the  costume  of  a  ranger,  with  a  powder-horn  slung  at  his  side, 
a  gun  resting  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm^  and  a  countenance  by  no 
means  prepossessing.  Behind  him,  at  a  little  distance,  stand  his 
Indian  followers. 

The  steep  mountain  called  Rogers'  Slide,  near  the  northern 
end  of  Lake  George,  derives  its  name  from  the  tradition  that, 
during  the  French  war,  being  pursued  by  a  party  of  Indians,  he 
slid  on  snowshoes  down  its  precipitous  front,  for  more  than  a 
thousand  feet,  to  the  frozen  la- o  below.  On  beholding  the 
achievement,  the  Indians,  as  well  they  might,  believed  him 
under  the  protection  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  gave  over  the  chase. 
The  story  seems  unfounded  ;  yet  it  was  not  far  from  this  moun- 
tain that  the  rangeis  fought  one  of  their  most  desperate  winter 
battles  against  a  force  of  many  times  their  number. 


MEETING  OF  ROGERS  AND  PONTIAC.  123 

Isle  about  the  end  of  the  month,  and  the  whole  proceeded 
together  along  the  southern  margin  of  Lake  Erie     The 
season  was  far  advanced.     The  wind  was  chill,  the  lake 
was  stormy,  and  the  woods  on  shore  were  tinged  with  the 
fadmg  hues  of  autumn.     On  the  seventh  of  November 
they  reached  the  mouth  of  Cayahoga  River,  the  present 
site  of  Cleveland.     No  body  of  troops  und.  r  the  British 
flag  had  ever  before  advanced  so  far.     The  day  was  dull 
and  ramy,  and  resolving  to  rest  until  the  weather  should 
miprove,  Rogers   ordered  his  men  to  prepare  their  en- 
campmen   in  the  neighboring  forest.     The  place  has  seen 
strange  changes  since  that   day.     A  youthful  city  has 
usurped  the  spot  where  the  flsh-hawk  and  the  eagle,  the 
wolf  and  the  bear,  then  reigned  with  undisputed  masiery. 
hoon  after  the  arrival  of  the  rangers,  a  party  of  In- 
dian  chiefs  and  warriors  entered  the  camp.     They  pro- 
c  aimed  themselves  an  embassy  from  Pontiac,  ruler  of  all 
that  country,  and  directed,  in  his  name,  that  the  English 
.nould  advance  no  farther  until  they  had  had  an  iSter- 

lTtT.1  hpf '^?f  f  ^'^^^'"  ^"^  ''^''^^y  '^^'^  -t  hand. 
In  tiuth,  before  the  day  closed,  Pontiac  himself  appeared ; 

and  It  IS  here  for  the  first  time,  that  this  remarkable  man 

htands  forth  distinctly  on  the  page  of  history.     He  greeted 

Kogers  with  the  haughty  demand,  what  was  his  business 

in  that  country,  and  how  he  dared  enter  it  without  his 

permission     Rogers  informed  him  that  the  French  were 

cleteated,  that  Canada  had  surrendered,  and  that  he  was 

on  his  way  to  take  possession  of  Detroit,  and  restore  a 

general  peace  to  white  men  and  Indians  alike.     Pontiac 

listened  with  attention,  but  only  replied  that  he  should 

stand  in  the  path  of  the  English  until  morning.     Having 

inquired  if  the  strangers  were  in  need  of  anything  which 

nilTfTi  7  T^^  "'^"'^'  ^'  ^^'^^^^^^'  ^^*h  his  chiefs,  at 
ni^nttall,  to  his  own  encampment ;  while  the  English  ill 
at  ease  and  suspecting  treachery,  stood  well  on  their 
guard  throughout  the  night. 

In  the  morning,  Pontiac  returned  to  the  camp  with 
His  attendant  chiefs,  and  made  his  reply  to  Rogers' speech 


•a 


l( .      ,ii 


!'j 

It'l 


124 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


•«■ 


■  w 


of  the  previous  day.  He  was  willing,  he  said,  to  live  at 
peaee  with  tlui  Englisli,  and  suffer  them  to  remain  in  his 
country  as  long  as  they  treat(;(l  him  with  due  respect  and 
deference.  The  Indian  (chiefs  and  provincial  officers 
smoked  the  cnilumet  together,  and  perfect  harmony 
seemed  estsihlished  between  them. 

Up  to  this  time,  Pontiac  had  been,  in  word  and  deed, 
the  fast  ally  of  the  French  ;  but  it  is  easy  to  discern  the 
niotives  that  imiielled  him  to  renounce  his  old  adherence. 
The  American  forest  mivv.v  produced  a  man  more  shrewd, 
politic,  and  ambitious.  Ignorant  as  he  was  of  what  was 
passing  in  the  world,  he  could  clearly  see  that  the  French 
power  was  on  the  wane,  and  he  knew  his  own  interest 
too  well  to  prop  a  falling  eause.  By  making  friends  of 
the  Knglisl ,  he  hoped  to  gain  powerful  allies,  who  would 
aid  his  ambitioi,is  projects,  and  give  him  an  increased  in- 
fluemfe  over  the  tribes;  and  he  flattered  himself  that  the 
new-(H)mers  would  treat  him  with  the  same  studied  re- 
spect which  the  French  had  always  observed.  In  this, 
and  all  his  otln^r  expet^tjitions  of  advantage  from  the  Eng-' 
lish,  he  was  doomed  to  disaiipointment. 

A  cold  storm  of  rain  set  in,  and  the  rangers  were 
detiiined  some  days  in  their  encampment.  During  this 
time,  Rogers  had  several  interviews  with  Pontiac,  and 
was  constrained  to  admire  the  native  vigor  of  his  intellect, 
no  less  than  the  singular  control  which  he  exercised  over 
those  around  him. 

On  the  twelfth  of  November,  the  detachment  was  again 
in  motion,  and  within  a  few  days,  they  had  reached  the 
western  end  of  Lake  Erie.  Here  they  heard  that  the 
Detroit  Indians  were  in  arms  against  tliem,  and  that  four 
hundred  warriors  lay  in  ambush  at  the  entrance  of  the 
river  to  cut  them  off.  But  the  powerful  influence  of 
Pontiac  was  exerted  in  behalf  to  his  new  friends.  The 
warriors  abandoned  their  design,  and  the  rangers  con- 
tinued their  progress  towards  Detroit,  now  within  a  short 
distance. 
In  the  mean  time,  Lieutenant  Brehm  had  been  sent 


THE  RANGER8  AT  DETROIT. 


125 


lorward  with  a  letter  to  Captain  Beletre,  the  commandant 

at  Detroit,  informing  him  that  Canada  had  capitulated, 

that  his  garrison  was  included  in  the  capitulation,  and  that 

an  JLiiglish  detachment  was  approaching  to  relieve  it 

1  he  frenchman,  in  great  wl-ath  at  the  tidings,  disregarded 

the  message  as  an  informal  communication,  and  resolved 

to  keep  a  hostile  attitude  to  the  last.     He  did  his  hest  to 

rouse  the  fury  of  the  Indians.     Among  other  devices,  he 

displayed  upon  a  pole,  before  the  yelling  multitude,  the 

eftigy  of  a  crow  pecking  a  man's  lu.ad,  the  crow  represen- 

tmg  himself,  and  the  head,  observes  liogers,  "being meant 

for  my  own."    Ail  his  efforts  were  unavailing,  and  his 

faithless  allies  showed  unequivocal  symptoms  of  defection 

m  the  hour  of  need. 

Rogers  had  now  entered  the  mouth  of  the  River  De 
troit,  whence  he  sent  forward  Captain  Campbell  with  a 
copy  of  the  capitulation,  and  a  letter  from  the  Marquis  de 
Vaudreuil,  directing  that  the  place  should  be  given  up 
111  accordance  in  ;th  the  terms  agreed  upon  between  him 
and  General  Amherst.  Beletre  was  forced  to  yield  and 
with  a  very  ill  grace  declared  himself  and  his  garrison  at 
the  disposal  of  the  English  commander. 

Tlie  whale-boats  of  the  rangers  moved  slowly  upwards 
between  the  low  banks  of  the  Detroit,  until  at  length  the 
green  uniformity  of  marsh  and  forest  was  relieved  by  the 
Canadian  houses,  which  began  to  appear  on  either  bank 
the  outskirts  of  the  secluded  and  isolated  settlement' 
before  them,  on  the  right  side,  they  could  see  the  village 
ot  the  Wyandots,  and  on  the  left  the  clustered  lodges  of 
the  Pottawattamies,  while,  a  little  beyond,  the  flag  of 
1^  ranee  was  flying  for  the  last  time  above  the  bark  roofs 
and  weather-beaten  palisades  of  the  little  fortified  town 
The  rangers  landed  on  the  opposite  bank,  and  pitehed 
their  tents  upon  a  meadow,  while  two  officers,  with  a 
small  detachment,  went  across  the  river  to  take  possession 
of  the  place.     In  obedience  to  their  summons,  the  French 

garrison  defilpfl  nnnn  fha  n1«i"  -^^^^  i-^j  j '^    • 

mi     ^        ,    ^ I'ltiixx,  «ii,A  iiiiu  uuvvji  tneir  arms. 

i  ho  Jleur  de  lis  was  lowered  from  the  flagstaff,  and  the 


I  ^; 


If6 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Jfcli 

Mill.' 


cross  of  St.  George  rose  aloft  in  its  place,  while  seven 
hundred  Indian  warriors,  lately  the  active  allies  of  France, 
greeted  the  sight  with  a  burst  of  triumphant  yells.  The 
Canadian  militia  were  next  called  together  and  disarmed. 
The  Indians  looked  on  with  amazement  at  their  obsequious 
behavior,  quite  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  so  many  men 
should  humble  themselves  before  so  few.  Nothing  is 
more  effective  in  gaining  the  respect,  or  even  attachment, 
of  Indians  than  a  display  of  power.  The  savage  spectators 
conceived  the  loftiest  idea  of  English  prowess,  and  were 
beyond  measure  astonished  at  the  forbearance  of  the  con- 
querors in  not  killing  their  vanquished  enemies  on  the 
spot. 

It  was  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  November,  1760,  that 
Detroit  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  English.  The  garrison 
were  sent  as  prisoners  down  the  lake,  but  the  Canadian 
inhabitants  were  allowed  to  retain  their  farms  and  houses, 
on  condition  of  swearing  allegiance  to  the  British  crown! 
An  officer  was  sent  southward  to  take  possession  of  the 
forts  Miami  and  Ouatanon,  which  guarded  the  communi- 
cation between  Lake  Erie  and  the  Ohio,  while  Rogers  him- 
self, with  a  small  party,  proceeded  northward  to  relieve 
the  French  garrison  of  Michillimackinac.  The  storms 
and  gathering  ice  of  Lake  Huron  forced  him  back  without 
accomplishing  his  object,  and  Michillimackinac,  with  the 
three  remoter  posts  of  St.  Marie,  Green  Bay,  and  St. 
Joseph,  remained  for  the  time  in  the  hands  of  the  French. 
During  the  next  season,  howevar,  a  detachment  of  the 
60th  regiment,  then  called  the  Royal  Americans,  took 
possession  of  them;  and  nothing  now  remained  within 
the  power  of  the  French  except  the  few  posts  and  set- 
tlements on  the  Mississippi  and  the  Wabash,  not  in- 
cluded in  the  capitulation  of  Montreal. 

The  work  of  conquest  was  consummated.  The  fertile 
wilderness  beyond  the  Alleghanies,  over  which  France 
had  claimed  sovereignty,— that  boundless  forest,  with  its 
tracery  of  interlacing  streams,  which,  like  veins  and  ar- 
teries, gave  it  life  and  nourishment,— had  passed  into  the 


THE  CONQUEST  CONSUMMATED. 


127 


hands  of  her  rival.  It  was  by  a  few  insignificant  forts, 
separated  by  oceans  of  fresh  water  and  uncounted  leagues 
of  forest,  that  the  two  great  European  powers,  France 
first,  and  now  England,  endeavored  to  enforce  their  claims 
to  this  vast  and  wild  domain.  There  is  something  ludi- 
crous in  the  disparity' between  the  importance  of  the  pos- 
session and  the  slenderness  of  the  force  employed  to 
maintain  it.  A  region  embracing  so  many  thousand  miles 
of  surface  was  consigned  to  the  keeping  of  some  five  or 
six  hundred  men.  Yet  the  force,  small  as  is  was,  ap- 
peared adequate  to  its  object,  for  there  seemed  no  enemy 
to  contend  with.  The  hands  of  the  French  were  tied  by 
the  capitulation,  and  little  apprehension  was  felt  from 
the  red  inhabitants  of  the  woods.  The  lapse  of  two  years 
was  enough  to  show  how  complete  and  fatal  was  thu 
mistake. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ANGER    OF    THE    INDIANS. THE    CONSPIRACY. 

The  country  was  scarcely  transferred  to  the  English 
when   smothered   murmurs   of   discontent   began  to  be 
audible  among  the  Indian  tribes.     From  the  head  of  the 
Potomac  to  Lake  Superior,  and  from  the  AUeghanies  to 
the  Mississippi,  in  every  wigwam  and  hamlet  of  the  forest, 
a  deep-rooted  hatred  of  the  English  increased  with  rapid 
growth.     Nor  is  this  to  be  wondered  at.     We  have  seen 
with  what  sagacious  policy  the  French  had  labored  to 
ingratiate  themselves  witli  the  Indians ;  and  the  slaughter 
of  the  Monongahela,  with  the  horrible  devastation  of  the 
western  frontier,  the  outrages   perpetrated  at   Oswego, 
and  the  massacre  at  Fort  William  Henry,  bore  witness 
to  the  success  of  their  efforts.     Even  the  Dela wares  and 
Shawanoes,  the  faithful  allies  of  William  Penn,  had  at 
length  been  seduced  by  their  blandishments ;   and  the 
Iroquois,  the  ancient  enemies  of   Canada,  had  half  for- 
gotten their  former  hostility,  and  well-nigh  taken  part 
against  the  British  colonists.     The  remote  nations  of  the 
west  had  also  joined  in  the   war,   descending  in  their 
canoes  for  hundreds  of  miles,  to  fight  against  the  enemies 
of  France.     All   these  tribes   entertained    towards  the 
Enghsh  that  rancorous  enmity  which  an  Indian  always 
feels  against   those    to  whom   he  has    been  opposed  in 
war. 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  behoved  the  English  to 
use  the  utmost  care  in  their  conduct  towards  the  tribes. 
But  even  when  the  conflict  with  France  was  iippending, 
and  the  alliance  with  the  Indians  of  the  last  importance,' 
v...^    ..„u   iitciLv-u   Liicm   wiLu  iiiuiuurence  ana  neglect. 


DISORDERS  OF  THE  FUR-TRADE. 


120 


They  were  not  likely  to  adopt  a  different  course  now  that 
tiieir  friendship  seemed  a  matter  of  no  consequence.    In 
truth,  the  intentions  of  the  English  were  soon  apparent. 
In  the  zeal  for  retrenchment,  which  prevailed  after  the 
close  of  hostilities,  the  presents  which  it  had  always  been 
customary  to  give  the  Indians,  at  stated  intervals,  were 
either  withheld  altogether,  or  doksd  out  with  a  niggardly 
and  reluctant  hand;  while,  to  make  the  matter  worse, 
the  agents  and  officers  of  government  often  appropriated 
the  presents  to  themselves,  and  afterwards  sold  them  at 
an  exorbitant  price  to  the  Indians.     When  the  French 
luid  possession  of  the  remote  forts,  they  were  accustomed, 
with  a  wise  liberality,  to  supply  the  surrounding  Indians 
with  guns,  ammunition,  and  clothing,  until  the  latter  had 
forgotten  the  weapons  and  garments  of  their  forefathers, 
and  depended  on  the  white  men  for  support.     The  sudden 
withholding  of  these  supplies  was,  therefore,  a  grievous 
calamity.     Want,  suffering,  and  death  were  the  conse- 
quences, and  this  cause  alone  would  have  been  enough  to 
produce  general  discontent.     But,  unhappily,  other  griev- 
ances were  superadded. 

The  English  fur-trade  had  never  been  well  regulated, 
and  it  was  now  in  a  worse  condition  than  ever.  Many 
of  the  traders,  and  those  in  their  employ,  were  ruffians  of 
the  coarsest  stamp,  who  vied  with  each  other  in  rapacity, 
violence,  and  profligacy.  They  cheated,  cursed,  and  plun-' 
dered  the  Indians,  and  outraged  their  families ;  offering, 
when  compared  with  the  French  traders,  who  were  under 
better  regulation,  a  most  unfavorable  example  of  the 
character  of  their  nation. 

The  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  garrisons  did  their  full 
part  in  exciting  the  general  resentment.  Formerly,  when 
the  warriors  came  to  the  forts,  they  had  been  welcomed 
by  the  French  with  attention  and  respect.  The  incon- 
venience which  their  presence  occasioned  had  been  dis- 
regarded, and  their  peculiarities  overlooked.  But  now 
thev  were  reppived  with  nnlH  lr>oiro  or>ri  v,o^r.},  — .^^c.  £^ - 

the  officers,  and  with  oaths,   menaces,  and  sometimes 


1  ( 


m 

;  i  I 

m 

'■'I 

<  i 

Mi 

m| 

iil 


'<  n 


iiinnm 


130 


THE  CONSHRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


blows,  from  the  reckless  and  brutal  soldiers.  When, 
after  their  troublesome  and  intrusive  fas'uon,  they  were 
lounging  everywhere  about  the  fort,  or  lazily  reclining 
in  the  shadow  of  the  walls,  they  were  met  with  muttered 
ejaculations  of  im[)atience  or  abrupt  orders  to  depart,  en- 
forced, perhaps,  by  a  touch  from  the  but  of  a  sentinel's 
nuiskct.  These  marks  of  contempt  were  unspeakably 
galling  to  their  haughty  spirit. 

Hut  what  most  contributed  to  the  growing  discontent 
of  the  tribes  was  the  intrusion  of  settlers  upon  their  lands, 
at  all  times  a  fruitful  source  of  Indian  hostility.  Its 
effects,  it  is  true,  could  only  be  felt  by  those  whose  country 
bordered  upon  the  English  settlements ;  but  among  these 
were  the  most  powerful  and  influential  of  the  tribes.  The 
Dela wares  and  Shawanoes,  in  particular,  had  by  this  time 
been  roused  to  the  highest  pitch  of  exasperation.  Their 
best  lands  had  been  invaded,  and  all  remonstrance  had 
been  fruitless.  They  viewed  with  wrath  and  fear  the 
steady  progress  of  the  white  man,  whose  settlements  had 
passed  the  Susquehanna,  and  were  fast  extending  to  the 
Alleghanies,  eating  away  the  forest  like  a  spreading 
canker.  The  anger  of  the  Delawares  was  abundantly 
shared  by  their  ancient  conquerors,  the  Six  Nations.  The 
threatened  occupation  of  Wyoming  by  settlers  from  Con- 
necticut gave  great  umbrage  to  the  confederacy.*  The 
Senecas  were  more  especially  incensed  at  English  intru- 
sion, since,  from  their  position,  they  were  farthest  removed, 
from  the  soothing  influence  of  Sii'  William  Johnson,  and 
most  exposed  to  the  seductions  of  the  French,  while  the 
Mohawks,  another  member  of  the  confederacy,  were  justly 
alarmed  at  seeing  the  better  part  of  their  lands  patented 
out  without  their  consent.  Some  Christian  Indians  of 
the  Oneida  tribe,  in  the  simplicity  of  their  hearts,  sent 
an  earnest  petition  to  Sir  William  Johnson,  that  the  Eng- 
lish forts  within  the  limits  of  the   Six  Nations  might  be 


1763,  MS.  Letter— Hamilton  to  Amherst,  May  10,  1761. 


SINISTER  MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  FRENCH         131 

removed,  or,  as  the  petition  expresses  it,  kicked  out  of  the 
way.* 

The  discontent  of  the  Indians  gave  great  satisfaction  to 
the  French,  who  saw  in  it  an  assurance  of  safe  and  bloody 
vengeance  on  their  conquerors.     Canada,  it  is  true,  was 
gone  beyond  hope  of  recovery ;  but  they  still  might  hope 
to  revenge  its  loss.    Interest,  moreover,  as  well  as  passion, 
prompted  them  to  inflame  the  resentment  of  the  Indians ; 
for  most  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  P'rench  settlements 
upon  the  lakes  and  the  Mississippi  were  engaged  in  the 
fur-trade,  and,  fearing  the  English  as  formidable  rivals, 
they  would  gladly  have  seen  them  driven  out  of  the  coun- 
try.    Traders,  habitans,  coureurs  des  bois,  and  all  other 
classes  of  this  singular  population,  accordingly  dispersed 
themselves  among  the  villages  of  the  Indians,  or  held 
councils  with  them  in  the  secret  places  of  uie  woods,  urg- 
ing them  to  take  up  arms  against  the  English.     They  ex- 
hibited the  conduct  of  the  latter  in  its  worst  light,  and 
spared  neither  misrepresentation  nor  falsehood.     They 
told  their  excited  hearers  that  the  English  had  formed  a 
deliberate  scheme  to  root  out  the  whole  Indian  race,  and, 
with  that  design,  had  already  begun  to  hem  them  in  with 
settlements  on  the  one  hand,  and  a  chain  of  forts  on  the 
other.    Among  other  atrocious  plans  for  their  destruction, 
they  had  instigated  the  Cherokees  to  attack  and  destroy 
the  tribes  of  the  Ohio  valley.    These  groundless  calumnies 
found  ready  belief.    The  French  declared,  in  addition, 
that  the  King  of  France  had  of  late  years  fallen  asleep ; 

*  "  We  are  now  left  in  Peace,  and  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
plant  our  Corn,  Hunt  the  wild  Beasts,  smoke  our  Pipes,  and  mind 
Religion.  But  as  these  Forts,  which  are  built  among  us,  disturb 
our  Peace,  &  are  a  great  hurt  to  Religion,  because  some  of  our 
Warriors  are  foolish,  &  some  of  our  Brother  Soldiers  don't  fear 
God,  we  therefore  desire  that  these  Forts  may  be  pull'd  down,  & 
kick'd  out  of  the  way." 

At  a  conference  at  Philadelphia,  in  A.ugust,  1761,  an  Iroquois 

smnViom    oairl       ''TXT*:*       irf^ii^     T>-^n*-U-^^-^    ^*    AU- ikT^i?.  

!..,..    CTtvSvt.,  77  c,     jtritt     j_ri.Dl;incil    \Ji.      Mio     SUVUU      X'HU.LIUnS,     Ul'tJ 

penned  up  like  Hoggs.    There  are  Forts  all  around  us,  and  there- 
fore we  are  apprehensive  that  Death  is  coming  upon  us." 


inBpH^Rf  J 


I 


i  ^*' 


'"\ 


il't 


'    i! 


132 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


.'(  i 


IT  ; 


WW 


that,  during  his  slumbers,  the  English  had  seized  upon 
Canada ;  but  that  he  was  now  awake  again,  and  that  his 
armies  were  advanciug  up  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the 
Mississippi,  to  drive  out  the  intruders  from  the  country 
of  their  red  children.  To  these  fabrications  was  added 
the  more  substantial  encouragement  of  arms,  ammunition, 
clothing,  and  provisions,  which  the  French  trading  com- 
panies, if  not  the  officers  of  the  crown,  distributed  with  a 
liberal  hand. 

The  fierce   passions   of  the  Indians,  excited  by  their 
wrongs,  real  or  imagined,  and  exasperated  by  the  repre- 
sentations of  the  French,  were  yet  farther  wrought  upon 
by  influences  of  another  kind.     A  prophet  rose  among 
the  Dela wares.     This  man  may  serve  as  a  counterpart  to 
the  famous  Shawanoe  prophet,  who  figured  so  conspic- 
uously in  the  Indian  outbreak  under  Tecumseh,  imme- 
diately before  the  wkr  with  England  in  1812.    Many  other 
parallel  instances  might  be  shown,  as  the  great  suscep- 
tibility of  the  Indians  to  religious  and  superstitious  im- 
pressions renders  the  advent  of  a  prophet  among  them  no 
very  rare  occurrence.    In  the  present  instance,  the  in- 
spired Delaware  seems  to  have  been  rather  an  enthusiast 
than  an  impostor;  or  perhaps  he  combined  both  char- 
acters.   The  objects  of  his  mission  were  not  wholly  polit- 
ical.    By  means  cf  certain  external  observances,  most  of 
them  sufficiently  frivolous  and  absurd,  his  disciples  were 
to  strengthen  and  Durify  their  natures,  and  make  them- 
selves  acceptable  U  the  Great  Spirit,  whose  messenger  he 
proclaimed  himself  to  be.     He  also  enjoined  them  to  lay 
aside  the  weapons  and  clothing  which  they  received  from 
the  white  men,  and  return  to  the  primitive  life  of  their 
ancestors.    By  so  doing,  and  by  strictly  observing  his 
other  precepts,  tho  tribes  would  soon  be  restored  to  their 
ancient  greatness  and  power,  and  be  enabled  to  drive  out 
the  white  men  wlio  infested  their  territory.     The  prophet 
had  many  followers.    Indians  came  from  far  and  near, 
and  gathered  tog3ther  in  large  encampments  to  listen  to 
his  exhortations.    His  fame  spread  even  to  the  nations  of 


PREMATURE  PLOTS. 


133 


the  northern  lakes;  but  though  his  disciples  followed 
most  of  his  injunctions,  flinging  away  flint  and  steel,  and 
making  copious  use  of  emetics,  with  other  observances 
equally  troublesome,  yet  the  requisition  to  abandon  the 
use  of  firearms  was  too  inconvenient  to  be  complied  with. 
With  so  many  causes  to  irritate  their  restless  and  war- 
like  spirit,  it  could  not  be  supposed   that  the  Indians 
would  long  remain  quiet.     Accordingly,  in  the  summer  of 
the  year  1761,  Captain  Campbell,  then  commanding  at 
Detroit,  received  information  that  a  deputation  of  Seaecas 
had  come  to  the  neighboring  village  of  the  Wyandots  for 
the  purpose  of  instigating  the  latter  to  destroy  him  and 
his  garrison.     On  farther  inquiry,  the  plot  proved  to  be 
general,  and  Niagara,  Fort  Pitt,  and  other  posts,  were  to 
share  the  fate  of  Detroit.     Campbell  instantly  despatched 
messengers  to  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst,  and  the  commanding 
officers  of  the  different  forts  ;  and,  by  this  timely  discov- 
ery, the  conspiracy  was  nipped  in  the  bud.    During  the 
following  summer,  1762,  another  similar  design  was  de- 
tected and  suppressed.     They  proved  but  the  precursors 
of  a  tempest.     Within,  two  years  after  the  discovery  of 
the  first  plot,  a  sc'ieme  was  matured  greater  in  extent, 
deeper  and  more  comprehensive  in  design— such  a  one  as 
was  never,  before  or  since,  conceived  or  executed  by  a 
North  American  Indian.     It  was  determined  to  attack  all 
the  English  forts  upon  the  same  day ;  then,  having  de- 
stroyed their  garrisons,   to  turn  upon   the  defenceless 
frontier,  and  ravage  and  lay  waste  the  settlements,  until, 
as  many  of  the  Indians  fondly  believed,  the  English  should 
all  be  driven  into  the  sea,  and  the  country  restored  to  its 
primitive  owners. 

It  is  difficult  to  determine  which  tribe  was  first  to  raise 
the  cry  of  war.  There  were  many  who  might  have  done 
so,  for  all  the  savages  in  the  ])ackwoods  were  ripe  for  an 
outbreak,  and  the  movement  seemed  almost  simultaneous. 
The  Delawares  and  Senecas  were  the  most  incensed,  and 
Kiashuta,  chief  of  the  latter,  was  perhaps  foremost  to 
apply  the  torch ;  but,  if  this  were  the  case,  he  touched  fire 


134 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC 


!l 


to  materials  already  on  the  point  of  igniting.  It  belonged 
to  a  greater  chief  than  he  to  give  method  and  order  to 
what  would  else  have  been  a  wild  burst  of  fury,  and  to 
convert  desultory  attacks  into  a  formidable  and  protracted 
war.  But  for  Pontiac,  the  whole  might  have  ended  in  a 
few  troublesome  inroads  upon  the  frontier,  and  a  little 
whooping  and  yelling  under  the  walls  of  Fort  Pitt. 

Pontiac,  as  already  mentioned,  was  principal  chief  of 
the  Ottawas.  The  Ottawas,  Ojibwas,  and  Pottawat- 
tamies,  had  long  been  united  in  a  loose  kind  of  confeder- 
acy, of  which  he  was  the  virtual  head.  Over  those  around 
him  his  authority  was  almost  despotic,  and  his  power  ex- 
tended far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  three  united  tribes. 
His  influence  was  great  among  all  the  nations  of  the  Illi- 
nois country ;  while,  from  the  sources  of  the  Ohio  to  those 
of  the  Mississippi,  apd,  indeed,  to  the  farthest  boundaries 
of  the  wide- spread  Algonquin  race,  his  name  was  known 
and  respected. 

The  fact  that  Pontiac  was  born  the  son  of  a  chief  would 
in  no  degree  account  for  the  extent  of  his  power ;  for, 
among  Indians,  many  a  chiefs  son  sinks  back  into  insig- 
nificance, while  the  offspring  of  a  common  warrior  may 
succeed  to  his  place.  Among  all  the  wild  tribes  of  the 
continent,  personal  merit  is  indispensable  to  gaining  or 
preserving  dignity.  Courage,  resolution,  wisdom,  address, 
and  eloquence  are  sure  passports  to  distinction.  With  all 
these  Pontiac  was  preeminently  endowed,  p.nd  it  was 
chiefly  to  them,  urged  to  their  highest  activity  by  a  vehe- 
ment ambition,  that  he  owed  his  greatness.  His  intellect 
was  strong  and  capacious.  He  possessed  commanding 
energy  and  force  of  mind,  and  in  subtlety  and  craft  could 
match  the  best  of  his  wily  race.  But,  though  capable  of 
acts  of  lofty  magnanimity,  he  was  a  thorough  savage, 
with  a  wider  range  of  intellect  than  those  around  him, 
but  sharing  all  their  passions  and  prejudices,  their  aerce- 
ness  and  treachery.  Yet  his  faults  were  the  faults  of  his 
race;  and  thev  


cannot  eclitise  his 


TiAmof     rt  n  Q 1 1 4-1  OCT 


great  powers  and  heroic  virtues  of  his  mind.    His  mem 


GLOOMY  PROSPECTS  OF  THE  INDIANS.  135 

ory  is  still  cherished  among  the  remnants  of  many 
Algonquin  tribes,  and  the  celebrated  Tecumseh  adopted 
him  for  his  model,  proving  himself  no  unworthy  imi- 
tator.* 

Pontiac  was  now  about  fifty  years  old.  Until  Major 
Rogers  came  into  the  country,  he  had  been,  from  motives 
probably  both  of  interest  and  inclination,  a  firm  friend  of 
the  French.  Not  long  before  the  Frencli  war  broke  out, 
he  had  saved  the  garrison  of  Detroit  from  the  imminent 
peril  of  an  attack  from  some  of  the  discontented  tribes  of 
the  north.  During  the  war,  he  had  fought  on  the  side 
of  France.  It  is  said  that  he  commanded  the  Ottawas  at 
the  memorable  defeat  of  Braddock  ;  but,  at  all  events,  he 
was  treated  with  much  honor  by  the  French  ofBcers,  and 
received  especial  marks  of  esteem  from  the  Marquis  of 
Montcalm,  t 

We  have  seen  how,  when  the  tide  of  affairs  changed, 
the  subtle  and  ambitious  chief  trimmed  his  bark  to  the 
current,  and  gave  t]ie  hand  of  friendship  to  the  English. 
That  he  was  disappointed  in  their  treatment  of  him,  and 
in  all  the  hopes  that  he  had  formed  from  their  alliance,  is 
sufficiently  evident  from  one  of  his  speeches.  A  new 
light  soon  began  to  dawn  upon  his  untaught  but  powerful 


^  Drake,  Life  of  Tecumseh,  138. 

Several  tribes,  the  Miamis,  Sacs,  and  others,  have  claimed  con- 
nection with  the  great  chief ;  but  it  is  certain  that  he  was,  by 
adoption  at  least,  an  Ottawa.  Henry  Conner,  formerly  govern- 
ment interpreter  for  the  northern  tribes,  declared,  on  the  faith 
of  Indian  tradition,  that  ht  -as  born  among  the  Ottawas  of  an 
Ojibwa  mother,  a  circumstance  which  proved  an  advantage  to 
him  by  increasing  his  influence  over  both  tribes.  An  Ojibwa 
Indian  told  the  writer  that  some  portion  of  his  power  was  to  be 
ascribed  to  his  being  a  chief  of  the  Metai,  a  magical  association 
among  the  Indians  of  the  lakes,  in  which  character  he  exerted  an 
influence  on  the  superstition  of  his  followers. 

t  The  venerable  Pierre  Chouteau,  of  St.  Louis,  remembered  to 
have  seen  Pontiac,  a  few  days  before  the  death  of  the  latter,  at- 

tirfid   in   f}l«  r>ntiTn1afQ  11  nif /->».»-«  /~^f  o  1?>.<^v«^U  ^-Oi^ Ui-i.    i-_  j  1 

. 1 .-^t  Ji8v,-j,   iti  i  xtrii-wii  vriiiv;ci,  v.  iiiuii   iiilU.  UUt'II 

given  him  by  the  Marquis  of  Montcalm  not  long  before  the  battle 
on  the  Plains  of  Abraham. 


;!' 


136 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


mind,  and  he  saw  the  altered  posture  of  affairs  under  its 
true  aspect. 

It  was  a  momentous  and  gloomy  crisis  for  the  Indian 
race,  for  never  before  had  they  been  exposed  to  such  press- 
ing and  imminent  danger.     With  the  downfall  of  Canada, 
the  Indian  tribes  had  sunk  at  once  from  their  position  of 
power  and  importance.     Hitherto  the  two  rival  European 
nations  had  kept  each  other  in  cheek  upon  the  American 
continent,  and  the  Indian  tribes  had,  in  some  measure, 
held  the  balance  of  power  between  them.     To  conciliate 
their  good  will  and  gain  their  alliance,  to  avoid  offending 
them  by  injustice  and  encroachment,  was  the  policy  both 
of  the  French  and  English.     But  now  the  face  of  affairs 
was  changed.     The  English  had  gained  an  undisputed 
ascendency,  and  the  Indians,  no  longer  important  as  allies, 
were  treated  as  ruere  barbarians,  who  might  be  trampled 
upon  with  impunity.    Abandoned  to   their  own  feeble 
resources  and  divided  strength,  the  tribes  must  fast  recede, 
and  dwindle  away  before  the  steady  progress  of  the  colo- 
nial power.     Already  their  best  hunting-grounds  were  in- 
vaded, and  from  the  eastern  ridges  of  the  Alleghanies 
they  might  see,  from  far  and  near,  the  smor  :  of  the  set- 
tlers' clearings,  rising  in  tall  columns  from  the  dark-green 
bosom  of  the  forest.     The  doom  of  the  race  was  sealed, 
and  no  human  power  could  avert  it ;  but  they,  in  their 
ignorance,  believed  otherwise,  ^^nd  vainly  thought  that, 
by  a  desperate  effort,  they  might  yet  uproot  and  over- 
throw the  growing  strength  of  their  destroyers. 

It  would  be  idle  to  suppose  that  the  great  mass  of  the 
Indians  understood,  in  its  full  extent,  the  danger  which 
threatened  their  race.  With  tliem,  the  war  was  a  mere 
outbreak  of  fury,  and  they  turned  against  their  enemies 
with  as  little  reason  or  forecast  as  a  panther  when  he 
leaps  at  the  throat  of  the  hunter.  Goaded  by  Avrongs 
and  indignities,  they  struck  for  revenge,  and  relief  from 
the  evil  of  the  moment.  But  !:he  mind  of  Pontiac  could 
c>abracc  a  wider  and  deeper  view.  The  peril  of  the  times 
was  unfolded  in  its  full  extent  before  him,  and  he  resolved 


DESIGNS  OF  PONTIAC. 


137 


to  unite  the  tribes  in  one  grand  effort  to  avert  it     He  did 
not  like  many  of  his  people,  entertain  the  absurd  idea 
that  the  Indians,  by  their  unaided  strength,  could  drive 
the  English  into  the  sea.     He  adopted  the  only  plan  that 
was  consistent  with  reason,  that  of  restoring  the  French 
ascendency  in  the  west,  and  once  more  opposing  a  check 
to  British  encroachment.     With  views  like  these,  he  lent 
a  greedy  ear  to  the  plausible  falsehoods  of  the  Canadians 
who  assured  him  that  the  armies  of  King  Louis  were  al' 
ready  advancing  to  recover  Canada,  and  that  the  French 
and  their  red  brethren,  fighting  side  by  side,  would  drive 
the  English  dogs  back  within  their  own  narrow  limits 

Revolving  these  thoughts,  and  remembering  moreover 
that  his  own  ambitious  views  might  be  advanced  by  the 
hostilities  he  meditated,  Pontiac  no  longer  hesitated  Re- 
venge, ambition,  and  patriotism,  wrought  upon  him  alike 
and  he  resolved  on  war.  At  the  close  of  the  year  1762 
he  sent  out  ambassadors  to  the  different  nations  Thf  y 
visited  the  country  of  the  Ohio  and  its  tributaries,  passed 
northward  to  the  region  of  the  upper  lakes,  and  the  wild 
borders  of  the  River  Ottawa ;  and  far  southward  towards 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi.*  Bearing  with  them  the 
war-belt  of  wampum,t  broad  and  long,  as  the  importance 

*  MS.  Letter— M.  D'Abbadie  to  M.  Neyon,  1764. 

f  Wampum  was  an  article  much  in  use  among  many  tribes  not 
only  for  ornament,  but  for  the  graver  purposes  of  councils 
treaties,  and  embassies.  In  ancient  times,  it  consisted  of  small 
sl)e  Is,  or  fragments  of  shells,  rudely  perforated,  and  strung  to- 
getlier  ;  but  more  recently,  it  was  manufactured  by  the  white 
men  from  the  inner  portions  of  certain  marine  and  fresh  water 
sue  is.  In  shape,  tlie  grains  or  beads  resembled  small  pieces  of 
broken  pipe-stem,  and  were  of  various  sizes  and  colors  black 
purple,  and  white.  When  used  for  ornaments,  they  were  ar- 
ranged fancifully  in  necklaces,  collars,  and  embroidery  ;  but 
when  employed  for  public  purposes,  they  were  disposed  in  a 
great  variety  of  patterns  and  devices,  which,  to  the  minds  of  the 
Indians,  had  all  the  significance  of  hieroglyphics.     An   Indian 

orator,  at  everv  clause  of  his  snoAph   riaiitTar^ri  «  u^u *_: j> 

wampum,  varying  in  size,  according  to  the  importance  of  what 
he  had  said,  and,  by  its  figures  and  coloring,  so  arranged  as  to 


^     I    I 


\4 


r 


ij 


'  >e' 


138 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


T 


'M 


'i'i 


ht'i  'I  I 


,      ki       II 


I': 


of  the  message  demanded;  and  the  tomahawk  stained 
red,  in  token  of  war ;  they  went  from  camp  to  camp,  and 
village  to  village.  Wherever  they  appeared,  the  sachems 
and  old  men  assembled,  to  hear  the  words  of  the  great 
Pontiac.  Then  the  head  chief  of  the  embassy  flung  down 
the  tomahawk  on  the  ground  before  them,  and  holding 
the  war-belt  in  his  hand,  delivered,  with  vehement  ges- 
ture, word  for  word,  the  speech  with  which  he  was  charged. 
It  was  heard  everywhere  with  approbation  ;  the  belt  was 
accepted,  the  hatchet  snatched  up,  and  the  assembled 
chiefs  stood  pledged  to  take  part  in  the  war.  The  blow 
was  to  be  struck  at  a  certain  time  in  the  month  of  May 
following,  to  be  indicated  by  the  changes  of  the  moon. 
The  tribes  were  to  rii^e  together,  each  destroying  the  Eng- 
lish garrison  in  its  neighborhood,  and  then,  with  a  general 
rush,  the  whole  were  to  turn  against  the  settlements  of 
the  frontier. 

The  tribes,  thus  banded  together  against  the  English, 
comprised,  with  a  few  unimportant  exceptions,  the  whole 
Algonquin  stock,  to  whom  were  united  the  Wyandots, 
the  Senecas,  and  several  tribes  of  the  lower  Mississippi. 
The  Senecas  were  the  only  members  of  the  Irocjuois  con- 
perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  his  words.  These  belts  were 
carefully  stored  up  like  written  documents,  and  it  was  generally 
the  office  of  some  old  man  to  interpret  their  meaning. 

When  a  wampum  belt  was  sent  to  summon  the  tribes  to  join 
in  war,  its  color  was  always  red  or  black,  while  the  prevailing 
color  of  a  peace-belt  was  white.  Tobacco  was  sometimes  used 
on  such  occasions  as  a  substitute  for  wampum,  since  in  their 
councils  the  Indians  are  in  the  habit  of  constantly  smoking,  and 
tobacco  is  thei-efore  taken  as  the  emblem  of  deliberation.  With 
the  tobacco  or  the  belt  of  wampum,  presents  are  not  un fre- 
quently sent  to  conciliate  the  good  will  of  the  tribe  whose  alli- 
ance is  sought.  In  the  summer  of  the  year  1846,  when  the  west- 
ern bands  of  the  Dahcotah  were  preparing  to  go  in  concert 
against  their  enemies  the  Crows,  the  chief  who  was  at  the  head 
of  the  design,  and  in  whose  village  the  writer  was  an  inmate, 
impoverished  himself  by  sending  most  of  his  horses  as  presents 
to  the  chiefs  of  the  surrounding  villages.  On  this  occasion, 
tobacco  was  the  token  borne  by  the  messengers,  as  wampum  is 
not  in  use  among  the  tribes  of  that  region. 


DISSIMULATION  OF  THE  INDIANS. 


139 


federacy  who  joined  in  the  league,  the  rest  being  kept  by 
the  influence  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  whose  utmost  ex- 
ertions, however,  were  barely  sufficient  to  allay  their 
irritation. 

While  thus  on  the  very  eve  of  an  outbreak,  the  Indians 
concealed  their  design  with  the  deep  dissimulation  of 
their  race.  The  warriors  still  lounged  about  the  forts, 
with  calm,  impenetrable  faces,  begging  as  heretofore  for 
tobacco,  gunpowder,  and  whiskey.  Now  and  then,  some 
slight  intimation  of  danger  would  startle  the  garrisons 
from  their  security,  and  an  English  trader,  coming  in 
from  the  Indian  villages,  would  report  that,  from  their 
manner  and  behavior,  he  suspected  them  of  mischievous 
designs.  Some  scoundrel  half-breed  would  be  heard 
boasting  in  his  cups  that  before  next  summer  he  would 
have  English  hiiir  to  fringe  his  hunting-frock.  On  one 
occasion,  the  plot  was  nearly  discovered.  Early  in  March, 
1763,  Ensign  Holmes,  commanding  at  Fort  Miami,  was 
told  by  a  friendly  Indian,  that  the  warriors  in  the  neigh- 
boring village  had  lately  received  a  war-belt,  with  a 
message  urging  them  to  destroy  him  and  his  garrison, 
and  that  this  they  were  preparing  to  do.  Holmes  called 
the  Indians  together,  and  boldly  charged  them  with  their 
design.  They  did  as  Indians  on  such  occasions  have 
often  done,  confessed  their  fault  with  much  apparent  con- 
trition, laid  the  blame  on  a  neighboring  tribe,  and  pro- 
fessed eternal  friendship  to  their  brethren  the  English. 
Holmes  writes  to  report  his  discovery  to  Major  Gladwyn, 
who,  in  his  turn,  sends  the  information  to  Sir  Jeffrey 
Amherst,  expressing  his  opinion  that  there  has  been  a 
general  irritation  among  the  Indians,  but  that  the  affair 
will  soon  blow  over,  and  that,  in  the  neighborhood  of  his 
own  post,  the  savages  were  perfectly  tranquil.  Within 
cannon  shot  of  the  deluded  officer's  palisades,  was  the 
village  of  Pontiac  himself,  the  arch  enemy  of  the  English, 
and  prime  mover  in  the  nlot. 

With  the  approach  of  spring,  the  Indians,  coming  in 
from  their  wintering  grounds,  began  to  appear  in  small 


'I  , 


i1! 


:;  I 


i 


140 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


parties  about  the  different  forts ;  but  now  they  seldom 
entered  them,  encamping  at  a  little  distance  in  the  woods. 
They  were  fast  pushing  their  preparations  for  the  medi- 
tated blow,  and  waiting  with  stifled  eagerness  for  the 
appointed  hour. 


1  n 


f '     1 


'  I 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


INDIAN  PREPARATION. 


I  INTERRUPT  the  progress  of  the  narrative  to  glance  for 
a  moment  at  the  Indians  in  their  military  capacity,  and 
observe  how  far  they  were  qualified  to  prosecute  the 
formidable  war  into  which  they  were  about  to  plunge. 

A  people  living  chiefly  by  the  chase,  and  therefore,  of 
necessity,  thinly  scattered  over  a  great  space,  divided 
into  numerous  tribes,  held  together  by  no  strong  principle 
of  cohesion,  and  with  no  central  government  to  combine 
their  strength,  could  act  with  little  efficiency  against  such 
an  enemy  as  was  now  opposed  to  them.  Loose  and  dis- 
jointed as  a  whole,  the  government  even  of  individual 
tribes,  and  of  their  smallest  separate  communities,  was  too 
feeble  to  deserve  the  name.  There  were,  it  is  true,  chiefs 
whose  office  was  in  a  manner  hereditary  ;  but  their 
authority  was  wholly  of  a  mortal  nature,  and  enforced  by 
no  compulsory  law.  Their  province  was  to  advise,  and 
not  to  command.  Their  influence,  such  as  it  was,  is 
chiefly  to  be  ascribed  to  the  principle  of  hero-worships 
natural  to  the  Indian  character,  and  to  the  reverence  for 
age,  which  belongs  to  a  state  of  society  where  a  patri- 
archal element  largely  prevails.  It  was  their  office  to 
declare  war  and  make  peace ;  but  when  war  was  declared 
they  had  no  power  to  carry  the  declaration  into  effect. 
The  warriors  fought  if  they  chose  to  do  so ;  but  if,  on 
the  contrary,  they  preferred  to  remain  quiet,  no  man 
could  force  them  to  lift  the  hatchet.  The  war-chief, 
vvhose  part  it  was  to  lead  them  to  battle,  was  a  mere 
partisan,  whom  his  bravery  and  exploits  had  led  to  dis- 

141 


[fit 


■1 


s;'!i::« 


142 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


tinction.  If  he  tliought  proper,  he  sang  his  war-song 
and  (lanced  his  war-dance,  and  as  many  of  tlie  young  men 
as  were  disposed  to  follow  him  gathered  around  and  en- 
listed themselves  under  him.  Over  these  volunteers  he 
had  no  legal  authority,  and  they  could  desert  him  at  any 
moment,  with  no  other  penalty  than  disgrace.  When 
several  war-parties,  of  dift'ert^nt  hands  or  tribes,  were 
united  in  a  common  enterprise,  their  chiefs  elected  a 
leader,  who  was  nominally  to  command  the  whole  ;  but 
unless  this  leader  was  a  man  of  high  distinction,  and 
endowed  with  great  mental  power,  his  commands  were 
disregarded,  and  his  authority  was  a  cipher.  Among 
his  followers  was  every  latent  element  of  discord,  pride, 
jealousy,  and  ancient  half-smothered  feuds,  ready  at  any 
moment  to  break  out,  and  tear  the  whole  asunder.  His 
warriors  would,  often  desert  in  bodies ;  and  many  an 
Indian  army,  before  reaching  the  enemy's  country,  has 
been  known  to  dwindle  away  until  it  was  reduced  to  a 
mere  scalping  party. 

To  twist  a  rope  of  sand  would  be  as  easy  a  task  as  to 
form  a  permanent  and  effective  army  of  such  materials. 
The  wild  love  of  freedom,  and  impatience  of  all  control, 
which  mark  the  Indian  race,  render  them  utterly  intol- 
erant of  military  discipline.  Partly  from  their  individual 
character,  and  partly  from  this  absence  of  subordination, 
spring  results  highly  unfavorable  to  the  efficiency  of 
continued  and  extended  military  operation.  Indian 
w^arriors,  when  acting  in  large  masses,  are  to  the  last  de- 
gree wayward,  capricious,  and  unstable ;  infirm  of  purpose 
as  a  mob  of  children,  and  devoid  of  providence  and  fore- 
sight. To  provide  supplies  for  a  campaign  forms  no  part 
of  their  system.  Hence  the  blow  must  be  struck  at  once, 
or  not  struck  at  all ;  and  to  postpone  victory  is  to  insure 
defeat.  It  is  when  acting  in  small,  detached  parlies,  that 
the  Indian  warrior  puts  forth  his  energies,  and  displays 
his  admirable  address,  endurance,  and  intrepidity.  It  is 
then  that  he  becomes  a  truly  formidable  enemy.  Fired 
with  the   hope   of  winning  scalps,   he  is  stanch  as  a 


THE  INDIANS  AS  A  MILITARY  PEOPLE. 


143 


bloodhound.  No  hardship  can  divert  him  from  his 
purpose,  and  no  danger  subdue  his  patient  and  cautious 
courage. 

From  their  inveterate  passion  for  war,' the  Indians  are 
always  prompt  enough  to  engage  in  it ;  and  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion,  the  prevailing  irritation  afforded  ample  as- 
KUiance  that  they  would  not  remain  idle.  While  there 
was  little  risk  that  they  would  capture  any  strong  and 
well-defended  fort,  or  carry  any  important  position,  there 
was,  on  the  other  hand,  every  reason  to  apprehend  wide- 
spread havoc,  and  a  destructive  war  of  detail.  That  the 
war  might  be  carried  on  with  vigor  and  effect,  it  was  the 
part  of  the  Indian  leaders  to  work  upon  the  passions  of 
their  people,  and  keep  alive  the  feeling  of  irritation ;  to 
whet  their  native  appetite  for  blood  and  glory,  and  cheer 
them  on  to  the  attack ;  to  guard  against  all  that  might 
quench  their  ardor,  or  abate  their  fierceness ;  to  avoid 
pitched  battles ;  never  to  fight  except  under  advantage  ; 
and  to  avail  themselves  of  all  the  aid  which  surprise,  craft, 
and  treachery  could  afford.  The  very  circumstances 
which  unfitted  the  Indians  for  continued  and  concentrated 
attack  were,  in  another  view,  highly  advantageous,  by 
preventing  the  enemy  from  assailing  them  with  vital  effect. 
It  was  no  easy  task  to  penetrate  tangled-  woods  in  search 
of  a  foe,  alert  and  active  as  a  lynx,  who  would  seldom 
stand  and  fight,  whose  deadly  shot  and  triumphant  whoop 
were  the  first  and  often  the  last  tokens  of  his  presence, 
and  who  at  the  approach  of  a  hostile  force  would  vanish 
into  the  black  recesses  of  forests  and  pine  swamps,  only 
to  renew  his  attacks  afresh  with  unabated  ardor.  There 
were  no  forts  to  capture,  no  magazines  to  destroy,  and 
little  property  to  seize  upon.  No  species  of  warfare 
could  be  more  perilous  and  harassing  in  its  prosecution, 
or  less  satisfactory  in  its  results. 

The  English  colonies  at  rhis  time  were  but  ill  fitted  to 
bear  the  brunt  of  the  impending  war.  The  army  which 
had  conquered  Canada  was  now  broken  up  and  dissolved ; 
the  provincials  were  disbanded,  and  most  of  the  regulars 


ii^ki 


■JiliH 


"t' 


■    -? 


■i 


^H 

■• 

ifn 

^^H 

ii^^l 

1 

t  n 

'*^^^^i 

P 

1 

1 

E 

lU 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


sent  home.    A  few  fragments  of  regiments,  miserably 
wasted  by  war  and  sickness,  were  just  arrived  from  the 
West  Indies ;  and  of  these,  several  were  already  ordered 
to  England,  to  be  discharged.     There  remained   barely 
troops  enough  to  furnish  feeble  garrisons  for  the  various 
forts  on  the  frontier  and  in  the  Indian  country.     At  the 
head  of  this  dilapidated  army  was  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst, 
the  able  and  resolute  soldier  who  had  achieved  the  reduc- 
tion of  Canada.     He  was  a  man  well  fitted  for  the  emer- 
gency ;  cautious,  bold,  active,  farsighted,  and  endowed  witli 
a  singular  power  of  breathing  his   own  energy  and  zeal 
into  those  who  served  under  him.     The  command  could 
not  have   been  in  better  hands ;  and  the  results  of  the 
war,  lamentable  as  they  were,  would  have  been  much  more 
disastrous  but  for  his  promptness  and  vigor,  and,  above 
all,  his  judicious  selection  of  those  to  whom  he  confided 
the  execution  of  his  orders. 

While  the  war  was  on  the  eve  of  breaking  out,  an  event 
occurred  which  had  afterwards  an  important  effect  upon 
its  progress— the  signin^  of  the  treaty  of  peace  at  Paris, 
on  the  tenth  of  February,  1763.     By  this  treaty  France 
resigned  her  claims  to  the  territories  east  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, and   that  great  river  now   became   the   western 
boundary  of  the  British  colonial  possessions.     In  portion- 
mg  out  her  new  acquisititions  into  separate  governments 
England  left  the  valley  of  the  Ohio   and   the   adjacent 
regions  as  an  Indian  domain,  and  by  the  proclamation  of 
the  seventh  of  October  following,  the  intrusion  of  settlers 
upon  these  lands  was  strictly  prohibited.     Could  these 
just  and  necessary  measures  have  been  sooner  adopted,  it 
IS  probable  that  the  Indian  war  might  have  been  pre- 
vented, or,  at  all  events,  rendered  less  general  and  violent, 
for  the   treaty   would   have  made  it  apparent  that  the 
French  could  never  repossess  themselves  of  Canada,  and 
have  proved  the  futility  of  every  hope  which  the  In- 
dians entertained  of  assistance  from  that  quarter,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  the  royal  proclamation   would  have 
greatly  tended  to  tranquillize  their  minds,  by  removing 


THE  WAR-FEAST-TIIE  WAR-DANCE. 


145 


the  chief  cause  of  irritation.  Hut  the  remedy  came  too 
late.  While  the  sovereigns  of  France,  England,  and 
Spain,  wt  ^  signing  the  treaty  at  Paris,  countless  Indian 
warriors  in  the  American  forests  were  singing  the  war- 
song,  and  whetting  their  scalping-knives. 

Throughout  the  western  wilderness,  in  a  hundred  camps 
and   villages,  were  celebrated  the  savage   rites  of   war. 
Warriors,   women,  and   children   were  alike   eager  and 
excited ;  magicians  consulted  their  oracles,  and  prepared 
charms  to  insure  success ;  while  the  war-chief,  his  body 
painted  black  from  head  to  foot,  withdrawing  from  the 
people,  concealed  himself  among  rocks  and  caverns,  or  in 
the  dark  recesses  of  the  forest.     Here,  fasting  and  pray- 
ing, he  calls  day  and  night  upon  the  Great  Spirit,  con- 
suiting  his  dreams,  to  draw  from  them  auguries  of  good 
or  evil ;  and  if,  perchance,  a  vision  of  the  great  war-eagle 
seems  to  hover  over  him  with  expanded  wings,  he  exults 
in  the  full  conviction  of  triumph.     When  a  few  days  have 
elapsed,  he  emerges  from  his  retreat,  and  the  people  dis- 
cover him  descending  from  the  ^^^oods,  and  approaching 
their  camp,  black  as  a  demon  of  war,  aud  shrunken  with 
fasting  and  vigil.     They  flock  around  and  listen  to  his 
wild  harangue.     He  calls  on  them  to  avenge  the  blood  of 
their   slaughtered   relatives;  he   assures  them  that  the 
(Jreat  Spirit  is  on  their  side,  and  that  victory  is  certain. 
With  exulting  cries  they  disperse  to  their  wigwams,  to 
array  themselves  in  the  savage  decorations  of  the  war- 
dress.    An  old  man  now  passes  through  the  camp,  and 
invites   the    warriors  to  a  feast  in  the    name  of    the 
cliief.     They  gather  from  all  quarters  to  his  wigwam, 
where  they  find  him  seated,  no  longer  covered  with  black, 
but  adorned  with  the  startling  and  fantastic  blazonry  of 
the  war-paint.     Those  who  join  in  the  feast  pledge  them- 
selves, by  so  doing,  to  follow  him  against  the  enemy. 
The  guests  seat  themselves  on  the  ground,  in  a  circle 
around  the  wigwam,  and  the  flesh  of  dogs  is  placed  in 
wooden  dishes  before  them,  while  the  chief,  though  goaded 
by  the  pangs  of  his  long,  unbroken  fast,  sits  smoking  his 

10 


i 


1 1 


HI 


m^ 


146 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


'■'■     f 


III. 


i 


■'  ■lir 


pipe  with  unmoved  countenance,  and  takes  no  part  in 
the  feast. 

Night  has  now  closed  in,  and  the  rough  clearing  is  il- 
lumined by  the  blaze  of  fires  and  burning  pine  knots,  cast- 
ing their  deep  red  glare  upon  the  dusky  boughs  of  the 
tall  surrounding  pine-trees,  and  upon  the  wild  multitude 
who,  fluttering  with  feathers  and  bedaubed  with  paint, 
have  gathered  for  the  celebration  of  the  war-dance.  A 
painted  post  is  driven  into  the  ground,  and  the  crowd 
form  a  wide  circle  around  it.  The  chief  leaps  into  the 
vacant  space,  brandishing  his  hatchet  as  if  rushing  upon 
an  enemy,  and,  in  a  loud,  vehement  tone,  chants  his  own 
exploits  and  those  of  his  ancestors,  enacting  the  deeds 
which  he  describes,  yelling  the  war-whoop,  throwing 
himself  into  all  the  postures  of  actual  fight,  striking 
the  post  as  if  it  ,were  an  enemy,  and  tearing  the  scalp 
from  the  head  of  the  imaginary  victim.  Warrior  after 
warrior  follows  his  example,  until  the  whole  assembly, 
as  if  fired  with  sudr'  frenzy,  rush  together  into  the  ring, 
leaping,  stamping,  ..  .  whooping,  brandishing  knives  and 
hatchets,  in  the  firelight,  hacking  and  stabbing  the  air, 
and  working  themselves  into  the  fury  of  battle,  while 
at  intervals  they  all  break  forth  into  a  burst  of  ferocious 
yells,  which  sounds  for  miles  away  over  the  lonely,  mid- 
night forest. 

In  the  morning,  the  warriors  prepare  to  depart.  They 
leave  the  camp  in  single  file,  still  decorated  in  all  their 
finery  of  paint,  feathers,  and  scalp-locks;  and  as  they 
enter  the  woods,  the  chief  fires  his  gun,  the  warrior  behind 
follows  his  example,  and  the  discharges  pass  in  slow  suc- 
cession from  front  to  rear,  the  salute  concluding  with  a 
general  whoop.  They  encamp  at  no  great  distance  from 
the  village,  and  divest  themselves  of  their  much- valued 
ornaments,  which  are  carried  back  by  the  women, 
who  have  followed  them  for  this  purpose.  The 
warriors  pursue  their  journey,  clad  in  the  rough  attire 
01  tiard  service,  anvx  move  silently  and  stealthily 
through  the   forest  towards  the  hapless    garrison,  or 


THE  INDIAN  WAR  PARTIES. 


U7 


defencel-S  settlement,  which  they  have  marked  as  thek 
prey. 

The  woods  were  now  filled  with  war-parties  such  as 
this,  and  soon  the  first  tokens  of  the  approaching  tempest 
began  to  alarm  the  unhappy  settlers  of  the  frontier.  At 
first,  some  trader  or  hunter,  weak  and  emaciated,  would 
come  in  from  the  forest,  and  relate  that  his  companions 
had  been  butchered  in  the  Indian  villages,  and  that  he 
alone  had  escaped.  Next  succeeded  vague  and  uncertain 
rumors  of  forts  attacked  and  garrisons  slaughtered  ;  and 
soon  after,  a  report  gained  ground  that  every  post  through- 
out the  Indian  country  had  been  taken,  and  every  soldier 
killed.  Close  upon  these  tidings  came  the  enemy  him- 
self. The  Indian  war-parties  broke  out  of  the  woods  like 
gangs  of  wolves,  murdering,  burning,  and  laying  waste, 
while  hundreds  of  terror-stricken  families,  abandoning 
their  homes,  fled  for  refuge  towards  the  older  settlements, 
and  all  was  misery  and  ruin. 

Passing  over,  for  the  present,  this  portion  of  the  war, 
we  will  penetrate  at  once  into  the  heart  of  the  Indian 
country,  and  observe  those  passages  of  the  conflict  which 
took  place  under  the  auspices  of  Pontiac  himself — the 
siege  of  Detroit,  and  the  capture  of  the  interior  posts  and 
garrisons. 


,..  ^^ 


.  't' 


n  ■ 
1 


f 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE    COUNCIL   AT    THE    RIVER   ECORCER. 


To  begin  the  war  was  reserved  by  Pontiac  ..s  his  own 
peculiar  privilege.  With  the  first  opening  of  spring  his 
preparations  were  compU^te.  II is  light-footed  messengers, 
with  their  wampum  belts  and  gifts  of  tobacco,  visited 
many  a  lonely  hunting  camp  in  the  gloom  of  the  northern 
woods,  and  called  chiefs  and  warriors  to  attend  the  gen- 
eral meeting.  The,  appointed  spot  was  on  the  banks  of 
the  little  River  Ecorces,  not  far  from  Detroit.  Thither 
went  Pontiac  himself,  with  his  squaws  and  his  children. 
Band  after  band  came  straggling  in  from  every  side,  until 
the  meadow  was  thickly  dotted  with  their  slender  wig- 
wams. Here  were  idle  warriors  smoking  and  laughing 
in  groups,  or  beguiling  the  lazy  hours  with  gambling, 
with  feasting,  or  with  doubtful  stories  of  their  own 
martial  exploits.  Here  were  youthful  gallants,  bedizened 
with  all  the  foppery  of  beads,  feathers,  and  hawk's  bells, 
but  held  as  yet  in  light  esteem,  since  they  had  slain  no 
enemy,  and  taken  no  scalp.  Here  also  were  young  dam- 
sels, radiant  with  bears'  oil,  ruddy-  with  vermilion,  and 
versed  in  all  the  arts  of  forest  coquetry  ;  shrivelled  hags, 
with  limbs  of  wire,  and  voices  like  those  of  screech-owls  • 
and  troops  of  naked  children,  with  small,  black,  mis- 
chievous eyes,  roaming  along  the  outskirts  of  the  woods. 

The  great  Roman  historian  observes  of  the  ancient 
Germans,  that  when  summoned  to  a  public  meeting,  they 
would  lag  behind  the  appointed  time  in  order  to  show 
their  independence.  The  remark  holds  true,  and  per- 
xiaps  witii  greater  emphasis,  of  the  Aniericaii  Indians ;  s 

and  thus  it  happened,  that  several  days  elapsed  before  the 
148 


VvT.   - 


SPEECH  OF  PONTIAC. 


149 


assembly  was  complete.  In  such  a  motley,  concourse  of 
barbarians,  where  different  bands  and  different  tribes 
were  nnistered  on  one  common  camping  ground,  it  would 
need  all  the  art  of  a  prudent  leader  to  prevent  their  dor- 
mant jealousies  from  starting  into  open  strife.  No  people 
are  more  prompt  to  quarrel,  and  none  more  prone,  in  the 
fierce  excitement  of  the  present,  to  forget  the  purpose  of 
the  future ;  yet,  through  good  fortune,  or  the  wisdom  of 
Pontiac,  no  rupture  occurred ;  and  at  length  the  last  loi- 
terer appeared,  and  farther  delay  was  needless. 

The  council  took  place  on  the  tw^juty-seventh  of  April. 
On  that  morning,  several  old  men,  the  heralds  of  the  camp, 
passed  to  and  fro  among  the  lodges,  calling  the  warriors, 
in  a  loud  voice,  to  attend  the  meeting. 

In  accordance  with  the  summons,  they  came  issuing 
from  their  cabins— the  tall,  naked  figures  of  the  wild 
Ojibwas,  with  quivers  slung  at  their  backs,  and  light  war- 
clubs  resting  in  the  hollow  of  their  arms ;  Ottawas,  wrap- 
ped close  in  their  gaudy  blankets ;  Wyandots,  fluttering 
in  painted  shirts,  their  heads  adorned  with  feathers,  and 
their  leggins  garnished  with  bells.  All  were  soon  seated 
in  a  wide  circle  upon  the  grass,  row  within  row,  a  grave 
and  silent  assembly.  Each  savage  countenance  seemed 
carved  in  wood,  and  none  could  have  detected  the  deep 
and  fiery  passions  hidden  beneath  that  immovable  ex- 
terior. Pipes  with  ornamented  stems  were  lighted,  and 
passed  from  hand  to  hand. 

Then  Pontiac  rose,  and  walked  forward  into  the  midst 
of  the  cou'  jil  According  to  Canadian  tradition,  he  was 
not  above  the  ^*  iddle  height,  though  his  muscular  figure 
was  cast  in  a  mould  of  remarkable  symmetry  and  vigor. 
His  complexion  was  darker  than  is  usual  with  his  ra3e, 
and  his  features,  though  by  no  means  regular,  had  a  bold 
and  stern  expression,  while  !iis  habitual  bearing  was  im- 
perious and  peremptory,  like  that  of  a  man  accustomed 
to  sweep  away  all  opposition  by  the  force  of  his  impetuous 
will.  His  ordinary  attire  was  that  cf  the  primitive  sav- 
age—a scanty  cincture  girt  about  his  loins,  and  his  long, 


if 


4 


mB 


150 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


M 


f  i 


bliMik  lijiir  flowing  loosely  at  his  bank ;  but  on  occasions 
like  tliis,  he  wa.J  wont  to  ai)|)car  as  betltUMl  his  i)ow()r 
and  clmractcissind  he  Ntooci  before  the  council  plumed  and 
painted  in  Mu>  lull  eostuine  of  war. 

Looking   round  ui)on  his   wild   uuditorH,  lie  began   to 

Npeak,  with  fierce  gesture,  and  loud,  inipassioncnl  voice ; 

and  at  every   pause,  deep  guttural  i-jaculations  of  assent 

and  api)roval    responded    to   his   words.     He   inveighed 

against   the   arrogance,   rapacity,  and    injustice  of    the 

English,  and   contrasted  them   with   the  Frent;!;,  whom 

they  had   drivtMi  from   the  soil,     lie   declared  that   the 

British  connnandant  had  treated  him  witii  neglect  and 

contempt;  that  the   soldiers  of  the  garrison   had  foully 

abused    the  Indians;  and  that  one    of  them  had  struck 

a  foUower  of  lus  own.     He  represented  the  danger  that 

would  arise  from  the  supremacy  of  the  English.     They 

had  expelled  the  French,  and  now  they  only  waited  for 

a  pretext  to   turn  upon  the  Indluia  and  destroy  them. 

Tlicn,  holding  out  a  broad  b«4t  of  wamjuun,  he  told  the 

council  that  he  had  received  it  from  their  gi-eat  father  the 

King  of  France,  in  token  that  he  had  heard  the  voice  of 

bis  red  children;  that  his  slee[)  was  at  an  end;  and  that 

his  great  war-canoes  would  soon  sail  up  the  St.  Lawrence, 

to  win  back  Canada,  and  wreak  vengeance  on  his  enemies. 

The  Indians  and  their  French  brethren  should  fight  once 

more  side  by  side,  as  they  had  always  fought ;  they  should 

strike  the  English  as  they  had  struck  them  niany  moons 

ago,  when  their  great  army  man^ied  down  the  Mononga- 

hela,  and  they  had  shot  them  from  their  ambush,  like  a 

tlock  of  pigeons  in  the  woods. 

Having  roused  in  his  warlike  listeners  their  native 
thirst  t\)r  blood  and  vengeance,  he  next  addressed  him- 
self to  their  superstition,  and  told  the  following  tale.  Its 
precise  origin  is  not  easy  to  determir.a.  It  is  possible 
that  the  Delaware  prophet^  mentioned  in  a  former  chapter 
may  have  had  some  part  in  it;  or  it  might  have  been  the 
ofTsiriiiig  01  Pontiac's  heated  imagii-.ition,  durhig  his 
period  of  fasting  luid  tU'caming.    That  he  deliberately 


X.     A^ 


ALLEGORY  OF  THE  DELAWARE. 


151 


invontefi  it  for  the  wako  of  tho  effect  it  would  produce,  is 
file  hitcst  probable  concjlusion  of  all ;  iior  it  evidently  pro- 
(H'cds  from  the  supiu'HtitiouH  uiiud  of  an  Indian,  brooding 
upon  tiu^  (ivil  days  in  wliieli  his  lot  was  cast,  and  turning 
tor  relief  to  the  inystcirious  Author  of  his  being.  It  is,  at 
id!  (ivcuits,  a  ehara(!teristie  speeiinc^n  of  the  Indian  legend- 
ary tales,  and,  like  many  of  them,  bears  an  all(!goric  sig 
nilieancy.  Y(>t  he  who  cmdeavors  to  interpret  an  Indian 
iillegory  through  all  its  erratic  windings  and  puerile 
inconsistencies,  has  undert.ikciu  no  easy  or  enviable 
task. 

"A  Delaware  Indian,"  said  Pontiae,  "conceived  an 
eag(!r  di^sir(>,  to  learn  wisdom  from  the  Master  of  Life; 
but,  being  ignorant  whoiu  to  find  him,  he  had  recourse 
to  fasting,  dreaming,  and  magi(!al  incantati(ms.  By  these 
means  it  was  reveahul  to  him  that  by  moving  forward 
in  a  stiaight,  undeviating  course,  he  would  reach  the 
abode  of  the  (ireat  Spirit.  He  tnld  his  purpose  to  no 
one,  and  having  provided  the  e(iuii.!Hents  of  a  hunter, — 
gun,  powder-horn,  amnuuiition,  and  .i  kettle  for  prepar- 
ing his  food — he  set  forth  on  his  errand.  For  some  time 
he  journeyed  on  in  high  hope  and  confidence.  On  the 
evening  of  the  eighth  day,  he  stopped  by  the  side  of  a 
brook  at  the  edge  of  a  small  prairio,  where  he  began  to 
make  ready  his  evcniing  meal,  wdien,  looking  up,  he  saw 
three  large  oixMiings  in  the  woods  on  the  ()i)posite  side  of 
the  meadow,  and  thrt^e  well-beaten  paths  which  entered 
them.  He  was  nui(;h  surprised;  but  his  wonder  in- 
creased wlu!n,  after  it  had  grown  dark,  the  three  paths 
wore  more  clearly  visible  than  ever.  Remembering  the 
important  object  of  his  journey,  he  could  neither  rest  nor 
sleep ;  and,  leaving  his  fire,  he  crossed  the  meadow,  and 
entered  the  largest  of  the  three  openings.  He  had  ad- 
vanc;ed  but  a  short  distance  into  the  forest,  when  a  bright 
flame  sprang  out  of  the  ground  before  him,  and  arrested 
his  steps.  In  great  amazement,  he  turned  back,  and 
entered  the  second  path,  where  the  same  wonderful  phe- 
nomenon again  encountered  him ;  and  now,  in  terror  and 


tW 

w 

!'  -j-^ 

M 

■| 

u 

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1 

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f 

: 

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t 

1- 

■ 

i 

t                 *     ' 

t 

II 


152 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


W    4) 


<iinet"'  'f 


bewilderment,  yet  still  resolved  to  persevere,  he  pursued 
the  last  of  the  three  paths,     On  this  he  journeyed  a  whole 
day  without  interruption,  when  at  length,  emerging  from 
the  forest,  he  saw  before  him  a  vast  mountain,  of  dazzling 
whiteness.     So  precipitous  was  the   ascent,  that  the  In- 
dian thought  it  hopeless  to  go  farther,  and  looked  around 
him  in  despair  ;  at  that  moment  he  saw,  seated  at  some 
distance  above,  the  figure  of  a  beautiful  woman  arrayed 
in  white,  who  arose  as  he  looked  upon  her,  and  thus  ac- 
costed him :  *  How  can  you  hope,  encumbered  as  you  are, 
to  succeed  in  your  design?     Go  down  to  the  foot  of  the 
mountain,  throw  away  your  gun,  your  ammunition,  your 
provisions,   and   your    clothing;  wash    yourself   in   the 
stream  which  flows  there,  and  you  will  then  be  prepared 
to  stand  before  the  Master  of  Life.'    The  Indian  obeyed, 
and  again  began  to  ascend  among  the  rocks,  while  the 
woman,  seeing  him  still  discouraged,  laughed  at  his  faint- 
ness  of  heart,  and  told  him  that,  if  he  wished  for  success, 
he  must  climb  by  the  aid  of  one  hand  and  one  foot  only! 
After  great  toil  and  suffering,  he  at  length  found  himself 
at  the  summit.     The  woman  had  disappeared,  and  he  was 
left  alone.    A  rich  and  beautiful  plain  lay  before  him, 
and  at  a  little  distance  he  saw  three  great  villages,  far 
superior  to  the  squalid  dwellings  of  the  Delawares.  '  As 
he  approached  the  largest,  and  stood  hesitating  whether 
he  should  enter,  a  man  gorgeously  attired  stepped  forth, 
and,   taking  him  by  the  hand,    welcomed  him    to    the 
celestial  abode.     He  then  conducted  him  into  the  presence 
of  the  Great  Spirit,  where  the  Indian  stood  confounded 
at  the   unspeakable   splendor   which    surrounded    him. 
The  Great  Spirit  bade  him  be  seated,  and  thus  addressed 
him  ; 

" '  I  am  the  Maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  the  trees,  lakes, 
rivers,  and  all  things  else.  I  am  the  Maker  of  mankind ; 
and  because  I  love  you,  you  must  do  my  will.  The  land 
on  which  you  live  I  have  made  for  you  and  not  for  others. 
Why  do  you  suficr  the  white  men  to  dwell  among  you  ? 
My  children,  you  have  forgotten  the  customs  and  tradl- 


ALLEGORY  OF  THE  DELAWARE. 


153 


tions  of  your  forefathers.  Why  do  you  not  clothe  your- 
selves in  skins,  as  they  did,  and  use  the  bows  and  arrows, 
and  the  stone-pointed  lances,  which  they  used?  You 
have  bought  guns,  knives,  kettles,  and  blankets  from  the 
white  men,  until  you  can  no  longer  do  without  them ; 
and  what  is  worse,  you  have  drunk  the  poison  fire-water, 
which  turns  you  into  fools.  Fling  all  these  things  away ; 
live  as  your  wise  forefathers  lived  before  you.  And  as 
for  these  English — these  dogs  dressed  in  red,  who  have 
come  to  rob  you  of  your  hunting-grounds,  and  drive  away 
tlie  game — you  must  lift  the  hatchet  against  them.  Wipe 
them  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  then  you  will  win 
Riy  favor  back  again,  and  once  more  be  happy  and  pros- 
perous. The  children  of  your  great  father,  the  King  of 
France,  are  not  like  the  English.  Never  forget  that  they 
are  your  brethren.  They  are  very  dear  to  me,  for  they 
love  the  red  men,  and  understand  the  true  mode  of  wor- 
shipping me.' " 

The  Great  Spirit  next  instructed  his  hearer  in  various 
precepts  of  morality  and  religion,  such  as  the  prohibition 
to  marry  more  than  one  wife,  and  a  warning  against  the 
practice  of  magic,  which  is  worshipping  the  devil.  A 
prayer,  embodying  the  substance  of  all  that  he  had  heard, 
was  then  presented  to  the  Delaware.  It  v/as  cut  in  hiero- 
glyphics upon  a  wooden  stick,  after  the  custom  of  his 
people,  and  he  was  directed  to  send  copies  of  it  to  all  the 
Indian  villages. 

The  adventurer  now  departed,  and,  returning  to  the 
earth,  reported  all  the  wonders  he  had  seen  in  the  celest- 
ial regions. 

Such  was  the  tale  told  by  Pontiac  to  the  council ;  and 
it  is  worthy  ol  notice,  that  not  he  alone,  but  many  of  the 
greatest  men  who  have  arisen  among  the  Indians,  have 
been  opponents  of  civilization,  and  stanch  advocates  of 
primitive  barbarism.  Red  Jacket  and  Tecumseh  would 
gladly  have  brought  back  their  people  to  the  wild  sim- 
plicity 01  their  original  condition.  There  is  nothing  pro- 
gressive in  the  rigid,  inflexible  nature  of  an  Indian.    He 


! 


li 


t 


i 


m 


;:| 


! 


41 

i\ 


fJSi 


I         ! 


154 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


will  not  open  his  mind  to  the  idea  of  improvement,  and 
nearly  every  change  that  has  been  forced  upon  him  has 
been  a  change  for  the  worse. 

Many  other  speeches  were  doubtless  made  in  the  coun- 
cil, but  no  record  of  them  has  been  preserved.  All  pres- 
ent were  eager  to  attack  the  British  fort,  and  Pontiac 
told  them,  in  conclusion,  that  on  the  second  of  May  he 
would  gain  admittance  with  a  party  of  his  warriors,  on 
pretence  of  dancing  the  calumet  dance  before  the  garri- 
son ;  that  they  would  take  note  of  the  strength  of  the 
fortification;  and,  this  information  gained,  he  would 
summon  another  council  to  determine  the  mode  of  at- 
tack. 

The  assembly  now  dissolved,  and  all  the  evening  the 
women  were  employed  in  loading  the  canoes,  which  we're 
drawn  up  on  the  bank  of  the  stream.  The  encampments 
broke  up  at  so  early  an  hour  that  when  the  sun  rose  the 
savage  swarm  had  melted  away  ;  the  secluded  scene  was 
restored  to  its  wonted  silence  and  solitude,  and  nothing 
remained  but  the  slender  framework  of  several  hundred 
cabins,  with  fragments  of  broken  utensils,  pieces  of  cloth; 
and  scraps  of  hide,  scattered  over  the  trampled  grass, 
while  the  mouldering  embers  of  numberless  fires  mingled 
their  dark  smoke  with  the  white  mist  which  rose  from 
the  little  river. 

Every  spring,  after  the  winter  hunt  was  over,  the 
Indians  were  accustomed  to  return  to  their  villages,  or 
permanent  encampments,  in  the  vicinity  of  Detroit ;  and, 
accordingly,  after  the  council  had  broken  up,  they  made 
their  appearance  as  usual  about  the  fort.  On  the  first  of 
May,  Pontiac  came  to  the  gate  witu  forty  men  of  the  Ot- 
tawa tribe,  and  asked  permission  to  enter  and  dance  the 
calumet  dance,  before  the  officers  of  the  garrison.  After 
some  hesitation  he  was  admitted  ;  and  proceeding  to  the 
corner  of  the  street,  where  stood  the  house  of  the  com- 
mandant. Major  Gladwyn,  he  and  thirty,  of  his  warriors 
beo'an  their  dance  each  recounting*  his  own  valiant  ex- 
ploits,  and  boasting  himself    the  bravest  of  mankind. 


THE  CALUMET  DANCE. 


155 


The  oflScers  and  me:  gathered  around  them  ;  while,  in 
the  mean  time,  the  remaining  ten  of  the  Ottawas  strolled 
about  the  fort,  observing  everything  it  contained.  When 
the  dance  was  over,  they  all  quietly  withdrew,  not  a  sus- 
picion of  their  sinister  design  having  arisen  in  the  minds 
of  the  English. 

After  a  few  days  had  elapsed,  Pontiac's  messengers 
again  passed  among  the  Indian  cabins,  calling  the  prin- 
cipal chiefs  to  another  council,  in  the  Pottawattamie 
village.  Here  there  was  a  large  structure  of  bark, 
erected  for  the  public  use  on  occasions  like  the  present. 
A  hundred  chiefs  were  seated  around  this  dusky  council- 
house,  the  fire  in  the  centre  shedding  its  fitful  light  upon 
their  dark,  naked  forms,  while  the  sacred  pipe  passed 
from  hand  to  hand.  To  prevent  interruption,  Pontiac  had 
stationed  young  men,  as  sentinels,  near  the  house.  He 
once  more  addressed  the  chiefs,  inciting  them  to  hostility 
against  the  English,  and  concluding  by  the  proposal  of 
his  plan  for  destroying  Detroit.  It  was  as  follows  :  Pon- 
tiac would  demand  a  council  with  the  commandant  con- 
cerning matters  of  great  importance  ;  and  on  this  pretext 
he  flattered  himself  that  he  and  his  principal  chiefs 
would  gain  ready  admittance  within  the  fort.  They  were 
all  to  carry  weapons  concealed  beneath  their  blankets. 
While  in  the  act  of  addressing  the  commandant  in  the 
council-room,  Pontiac  was  to  make  a  certain  signal,  upon 
which  the  chiefs  were  to  raise  the  war-whoop,  rush  upon 
the  officers  present,  and  strike  them  down.  The  other 
Indians,  waiting  meanwhile  at  the  gate,  or  loitering 
among  the  houses,  on  hearing  the  yells  and  firing  within 
the  building,  were  to  assail  the  astonished  and  half-armed 
soldiers  ;  and  thus  Detroit  would  fall  an  easy  prey. 

In  opening  this  plan  of  treachery,  Pontiac  spoke  rather 
as  a  counsellor  than  as  a  commander.  Haughty  as  he  was 
he  had  too  much  sagacity  to  wound  the  pride  of  a  body 
of  men  over  whom  he  had  no  other  control  than  that 
derived  from  his  personal  character  and  influence.  No 
one  was  hardy  enough  to  venture  opposition  to  the  pro- 


s','I 


»■ 


Htm 

S  f.  f  T 


•til 


1  i  'U 


■^1 

If 

II 


If^ 


"si 


!) 

1 1 


l^^^t       ll. 

Hiil&^l 

Bp 

■1 

','iiJm 

> 

i      , 

*ifl| 

It    !           j 

1 1  ^H 

156 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


posal  of  their  great  leader.  His  plan  was  eagerly  adopted. 
Deep,  hoarse  ejaculations  of  applause  echoed  his  speech ; 
and,  gathering  their  blankets  around  them,  the  chiefs 
withdrew  to  their  respective  villages,  to  prepare  for  the 
destruction  of  the  unhappy  little  garrison. 


41^ 


CHAPTER  X. 


DETROIT. 


To  the  credulity  of  mankind  each  great  calamity  has 
its  dire  prognostics.  Signs  and  portents  in  the  heavens, 
the  vision  of  an  Indian  bow,  and  the  figure  of  a  scalp  im- 
printed on  the  disk  of  the  moon,  warned  the  New  England 
Puritans  of  impending  war.  The  apparitions  passed 
iiway,  and  Philip  of  Mount  Hope  burst  from  the  forest 
with  his  Narragansett  warriors.  In  October,  1762,  thick 
clouds  of  inky  blackness  gathered  above  the  fort  and  set- 
tlement of  Detroit.  The  river  darkened  beneath  the  aw- 
ful shadows,  and  the  forest  was  wrapped  in  double  gloom. 
Drops  of  rain  began  to  fall,  of  strong,  sulphurous  odor, 
and  so  deeply  colored  that  the  people,  it  is  said,  collected 
and  used  them  for  the  purpose  of  writing.  A  prominent 
literary  and  philosophical  journal  seeks  to  explain  this 
strange  phenomenon  on  some  principle  of  physical 
science ;  but  the  simple  Canadians  held  a  different  faith. 
Throughout  the  winter,  the  shower  of  black  rain  was  the 
foremost  topic  of  their  fireside  talks,  and  dreary  forebod- 
ings of  evil  disturbed  the  breast  of  many  a  timorous 
matron. 

La  Motte  Cadillac  was  the  founder  of  Detroit.  In  the 
year  1701,  he  planted  the  little  military  colony,  which 
time  has  transmuted  into  a  thriving  American  city.  At 
an  earlier  date,  some  feeble  efforts  had  been  made  to  secure 
the  possession  of  this  important  pass ;  and  when  La  Hon- 
tan  visited  the  lakes,  a  small  post,  called  Fort  St.  Joseph, 

TT-qa  afa  11/1  inn*   Tipnr  fViP     -nrpHPrif.    aifp     nf  T?nrt.  rrrnt.irkf         Af 

about  this  time,  the  wandering  Jesuits  made  frequent 

157 


I 


'- 


i 


i 
11 


i 


I 


m 


158 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


'.ii 


■   i 

Hi. 


HojournH  upon  tlio  borders  of  tho  Dotroit,  and  baptized  tbo 
wavago  (ibildron  whom  they  foinid  there. 

Fort  St.  Joseph  was  abandoned  in  the  year  1G88.     The 
estal)liHhnuuit  of  (-adilhu!  was  dcjstined  to  a  better  fate, 
and  soon    rose  to  distinf,nnsh(Ml    importance  among   the 
western  ontposts  of  Caiuida.     Indeed,  tlie  site  was  formed 
by  natnre  for  ])r()si)erity  ;  and  a  bad  government  and  a 
thriftU'ss  \m)\)U)  eonid  not   prevent  the  increase  of  tlie 
colony.     At  tiie  close  of  the  French  war,  as  Major  Kogers 
tells  us,  the  i>hi(H'-  contained  twenty-tive  hundred  inhab- 
itsuits.     The   centre  of  the  si^ttlement  was   the  fortified 
town,  (^irrtnitly  calUul  tlu^  Fort,  to  distinguish  it  from  the 
straggling  dwellings  along  the  river  banks.     It  stood  on 
the  western  margin  of  tlu^  river,  covering  a  small  part  of 
the  gronnd  now  occui)ied  by  the  city  of  Detroit,  and  con- 
tained about  a  hun(Jri>d  houses,  com[)actly  pressed  together, 
and  surrouniUid  by  a  palisade.     Hoth  above  and   below 
the  fort,  the  banks  of  the  stream  were  lined  on  both  sides 
with  small  C'anadian  dwellings,  extending  at  various   in- 
tervals for  nearly  t>ight  miles.     Each  had  its  garden  and 
its  ovchard,  and  (>ach  was  enclosed  by  a  fence  of  rounded 
pickets.     To  the  soldier  or  the  trader,  fresh  from   the 
harsh  scenery  and  ambushed  perils  of  the  surrounding 
wilds,  the  secluded  settlement  was  welcome  as  an  oasis 
in  the  desert. 

The  Canadian  is  usually  a  happy  man.  Life  sits 
lightly  upon  him ;  he  laughs  at  its  hardships,  and  soon 
forgets  its  sorrows.  A  lover  of  roving  and  adventure,  of 
the  frolic  and  the  dance,  he  is  little  troubled  with  thoughts 
of  the  past  or  the  future,  and  little  plagued  with  avarice 
or  ambition.  At  Detroit,  all  his  propensities  found  ample 
scope.  Aloof  from  the  world,  the  simple  colonists  shared 
none  of  its  pleasures  and  excitements,  and  were  free  from 
many  of  its  cares.  Nor  were  luxuries  wanting  which 
civilization  n\ight  have  envied  them.  The  forest  teemed 
with  game,  the  marshes  with  wild  fowl,  and  the  rivers 
with  iish.  The  apples  and  pears  of  the  old  Canadian 
orchards  are  even  to  this  day  held  in  esteem.    The  poorer 


ifl 


ITS  ORIGIN  AND  HISTORY. 


159 


iiilial»itantH  mado  wino  from  tlje  fruit  of  the  wild  grape, 
wiiicli  ^revv  profusely  in  the  woods,  whih;  the  wealthi(!r 
class  i)ro(!ured  a  better  (luality  froui  Montreal,  in  exchange 
for  the  eano(;  loads  of  furs  which  they  sent  down  with 
every  year.  lien*,  as  elsewhere;  in  Canada,  the  long  win- 
ter was  a  season  of  so(;ial  enjoyment;  and  wlu;n,  in  sum- 
mer and  autunni,  the  traders  and  voyageurs,  the  coureurs 
(/i',H  hois  and  half-bn^eds,  gathered  from  the  distant  forests 
of  the  north-west,  the  whole  settltancnit  was  alive  with 
frolic  gayety,  with  dancing  and  feasting,  drinking,  gaming, 
and  (!arousing. 

Within  the  limits  of  the  settlement  were  three  large 
Indian  villagers.  On  the  western  shore,  a  little  below  the 
fort,  were  the;  lo(lg(;s  of  the  Pottawattamies ;  nciarly 
op])osite,  on  the  eastern  side,  was  the  village  of  the 
Wyandots ;  and  on  the  same  side,  two  miles  higher  up, 
]*ontlac's  band  of  Ottawas  had  fixed  their  abode.  The 
settlers  had  always  maintained  the  best  terms  with  their 
savage  neighbors.  In  truth,  there  was  much  congeniality 
bc^tween  the  red  man  and  the  Canadian.  Their  harmony 
was  sc^ldom  broken ;  and  among  the  woods  and  wilds  of 
the  northern  lakes  roamed  many  a  lawless  half-breed,  the 
mongrel  offspring  of  intermarriages  between  the  colonists 
of  Detroit  and  the  Indian  sejuaws. 

We  liave  already  seen  how,  in  an  evil  hour  for  the 
Canadians,  a  party  of  British  troops  took  possession  of 
Detroit,  towards  the  close  of  the  year  1760.  The  Brit- 
ish garrison,  consisting  partly  of  regulars  and  partly  of 
provincial  rangers,  was  now  quartered  in  a  well-built 
range  of  barrac'ks  within  the  town  or  fort.  The  latter, 
as  already  mentioned,  contained  about  a  hundred  small 
houses.  Its  form  was  nearly  square,  and  the  palisade 
whi(;h  surrounded  it  was  about  twenty-five  feet  high. 
At  each  corner  was  a  wooden  bastion,  and  a  block-house 
was  erected  over  each  gateway.  The  houses  were  small, 
chiefly  built  of  wood,  and  roofed  with  bark  or  a  thatch  of 
straw.  The  streets  also  were  extremely  narrow,  though 
a  wide  passage  way,  known  as  the  cheniin  du  ronde^  oUr- 


! 


160 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


*     M 


rounded  the  town  between  the  houses  and  the  palisade 
Besides  the  barracks,  the  only  public  buildings  were  a 
council-house  and  a  rude  little  church. 

The  garrison  consisted  of  a  hundred  and  twenty 
soldiers,  with  about  forty  fur-traders  and  eti^af/es ;  but 
the  latter,  as  well  as  the  peaceful  Canadian  inhabitants  of 
the  place,  could  little  be  trusted,  in  the  event  of  an  Indian 
outbreak.  Two  small  armed  schooners,  the  Beaver  and 
the  Gladwyn,  lay  anchored  in  the  stream,  and  several 
light  pieces  of  artillery  were  mounted  in  the  bastions. 

Such  was  Detroit— a  place  whose  defences  could  have 
opposed  no  resistance  to  a  civilized  enemy;  and  yet, 
situated  as  it  was,  far  removed  from  the  hope  of  speedy 
succor,  it  could  only  rely,  in  the  terrible  struggles  that 
awaited  it,  upon  its  own  slight  strength  and  feeble  re- 
sources. 

Standing  on  the  water  bastion  of  Detroit,  the  land- 
scape that  prtisented  itself  might  well  remain  impressed 
through  life  upon  the  memory.  The  river,  about  half  a 
mile  wide,  almost  washed  the  foot  of  the  stockade  ;  and 
either  bank  was  lined  with  the  white  Canadian  cottages. 
The  joyous  si)arkling  of  the  bright  blue  water  ;  the  green 
luxuriance  of  the  woods  ;  the  white  dwellings,  looking  out 
from  the  foliage  ;  and  in  the  distance,  the  Indian  wigwams 
curling  their  smoke  against  the  sky,— all  were  mingled  in 
one  great  scene  of  wild  and  rural  beauty. 

Pontiac,  the  Satan  of  this  forest  paradise,  was  accus- 
tomed to  spend  the  early  part  ot  the  summer  upon  a 
small  island  at  the  opening  of  the  Lake  St.  Clair,  hidden 
from  view  .by  the  high  woods  that  covered  the  interven- 
ing Isle  au  Cochon.  « The  king  and  lord  of  all  this 
country,"  as  Rogers  calls  him,  lived  in  no  royal  state. 
His  cabin  was  a  small,  oven-shaped  structure  of  bark  and 
rushes.  Here  he  dwelt  with  his  squaws  and  children ; 
and  here,  doubtless,  he  might  often  have  been  seen,  care- 
lessly reclining  his  naked  form  on  a  rush  mat,  or  a  bear- 
skin, like  any  ordinary  warrior.  We  may  fancy  the 
current  of  his  thoughts,  the  uncurbed  passions  swelling 


THE  PLOT  REVEALED. 


ICl 


in  his  powerful  houI,  as  he  revolved  the  treacheries  which, 
to  his  savage  mind,  seemed  fair  and  honorable.  At  one 
moment,  his  fierce  heart  would  burn  with  the  anticipation 
of  vengeance  on  the  detested  English  ;  at  another,  he  would 
meditate  how  he  best  might  turn  thv,  approaching  tumults 
to  the  furtherance  of  his  own  ambitious  schemes.  Yet 
we  may  believe  that  Pontiac  was  not  a  stranger  to  the 
high  emotion  of  the  patriot  hero,  the  champion  not  merely 
of  his  nation's  rights,  but  of  the  very  existence  of  his  race. 
He  did  not  dream  how  desperate  a  game  he  was  about  to 
play.  lie  hourly  flattered  himself  with  the  futile  hope  of 
aid  from  France.  In  his  ignorance,  he  thought  that  the 
Ihitish  colonies  must  give  way  before  the  rush  of  his 
savage  warriors  ;  when,  in  truth,  all  the  combined  tribes 
of  the  forest  might  have  chafed  in  vain  rage  against  the 
rock-like  strength  of  the  Anglo-Saxon. 

Looking  across  an  intervening  arm  of  the  river,  Pontiac 
could  see  on  its  eastern  bank  the  numerous  lodges  of  his 
Ottawa  tribesmen,  half  hidden  among  the  ragged  growth 
of  trees  and  bushes.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  fifth  of 
May,  a  Canadian  woman,  the  wife  of  St.  Aubin,  one  of  the 
principal  settlers,  crossed  over  from  the  western  side,  and 
visited  the  Ottawa  village,  to  obtain  from  the  Indians  a 
supply  of  maple  sugar  and  venison.  She  was  surprised 
at  finding  several  of  the  warriors  engaged  in  filing  off  the 
muzzles  of  their  guns,  so  as  to  reduce  them,  stock  and  all, 
to  the  length  of  about  a  yard.  Returning  home  in  the 
evening,  she  mentioned  what  she  had  seen  to  several  of 
her  neighbors.  Upon  this,  one  of  them,  the  blacksmith 
of  the  village,  remarked  that  many  of  the  Indians  had 
lately  visited  his  shop,  and  attempted  to  borrow  files  and 
saws  for  a  purpose  which  they  would  not  explain.  These 
circumstances  excited  the  suspicion  of  the  experienced 
Canadians.  Doubtless  there  were  many  in  the  settlement 
who  might,  had  they  chosen,  have  revealed  the  plot ;  but 
it  is  no  less  certain  that  the  more  numerous  and  respect- 
able class  in  the  little  community  had  too  deep  an  inter- 
est in  the  preservation  of  peace  to  countenance  the  designs 
II 


' 


1j 


ii 


■lij 


102 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTTAC. 


I 


of  Poiitiac.  M.  Gouin,  an  old  and  vvealUiy  settlor,  wont 
to  tlie  commandant,  and  oonjnrod  him  to  stand  Vipon  his 
gnard;  bnt  (Jhuhvyn,  a  man  of  foarloHs  tijniT  or,  give  no 
hood  to  tho  friondly  advicio. 

In  tho  P<)ttavvattami(!  village  livod  an  Oji])\,a  •:"i  who, 
if  thoro  bo  truth  in  tradition,  (;ould  boast  a  li^rgc^r  snare  of 
boanty  than  is  connnon  in  the  wigwam.  She  )•  '»  i  i-juitod 
the  (^0  of  (iladwyn.  He  had  formed  a  oonnoetion  with 
her,  and  she;  had  beciome  nnioh  attacihod  to  him.  On  the 
afternoon  of  the  sixth,  C^itharine— for  so  the  officers 
called  her— came  to  the  fort,  and  repaired  to  (Jladwyn's 
quarters,  bringnig  with  her  a  pair  of  elk-skin  moccasons, 
ornamented  with  jumMipinc^  work,  which  he  had  recpiested 
her  to  make.  Thoro  was  sonuithing  umisual  in  her  look 
and  manntT.  Uvv  face  was  sad  and  downcnist.  She  said 
little,  and  soon  le/t  the  room  ;  but  the  sentinel  at  the  door 
saw  her  still  lingering  at  the  street  corner,  though  tho 
hour  for  closing  the  gates  was  nearly  come.  At  length 
she  attracted  the  notice  of  (iladwyn  himself ;  and  calling 
her  to  him,  ho  pressed  her  to  declare  what  was  weighing 
upon  her  mind.  Still  she  remained  for  a  long  time  silent, 
and  it  was  only  after  nmch  urgonc^y  and  many  promises 
not  to  betray  her,  that  she  revealed  her  momentous  secret. 

To-morrow,  she  said,  Pontiac  will  come  to  the  fort  with 
sixty  of  his  chiefs.  Each  will  be  armed  with  a  gun,  cut 
short,  and  hidden  under  his  blanket.  Pontiac  will  demand 
to  hold  a  council ;  and  after  he  has  delivered  his  speech, 
ho  will  offer  a  peace-bolt  of  wan>pum,  holding  it  in  a  re- 
versed position.  This  will  be  tho  signal  of  attack.  The 
chiefs  will  spring  up  and  lire  u[)on  the  officers,  and  the 
Indians  in  the  street  will  fall  upon  the  garrison.  Every 
Englishman  will  be  killed,  but  not  the  scalp  of  a  singles 
Frenchman  will  be  touched. 

Gladwyn  was  an  officer  of  signal  courage  and  address. 
lie  thanked  his  faithful  mistress,  and,  promising  a  rich 
reward,  told  her  to  go  back  to  her  village,  that  no  suspicion 
iiiij^iiL  uc  iviiiQicti.  iigaiiist  iicT.  iiiun,  caliHig  ins  subor- 
dinates together,  he  imparted  what  he  had  heard.    The 


A  NIGHT  OF  ANXIETY. 


163 


defences  of  the  place  were  feeble  jukI  extensive,  and  the 
garrison  by  far  too  weak  to  rf^pel  a  general  assault.  The 
force  of  the  Indians  at  this  time  is  variously  estimated  at 
from  six  hundred  to  two  thousand  ;  and  the  commandant 
grcnitly  feared  that  some  wild  impulse  might  precipitate 
their  plan,  and  that  tliey  would  storm  the  fort  before  the 
morning.  Every  i)repaniti(^n  was  made  to  meet  the  sudden 
emergency.  Half  the  garrison  were  ordered  undejr  arms, 
and  all  the  officers  prepared  to  spend  the  night  upon  the 
riimparts. 

"  It  rained  all  day,"  writes  the  chronicler,  "  hvf  cleared 
up  towards  evening,  and  there  was  a  very  fi  -  .^anset." 
Perhaps  it  was  such  an  one  as  even  now,  when  all  else  is 
changed,  may  still  be  seen  at  times  from  the  eastern  shore 
of  the  Detroit.  A  canopy  of  clouds  is  spread  across  the 
sky,  drawn  up  from  the  horizon  like  a  curtain,  as  if  to 
reveal  the  glory  of  the  west,  where  lies  a  transparent  sea 
of  licpiid  amber  immeasurably  deep.  The  sun  ban  set ;  the 
last  glimpse  of  his  burning  disk  has  vanished  behind  the 
forest ;  but  where  he  sank,  the  sky  glows  like  a  conflagra- 
ti  ^n,  and  still,  from  his  retreat,  he  bathes  heaven  and  earth 
with  celestial  coloring.  The  edges  of  the  cloudy  curtain 
are  resplendent  with  gold,  and  its  dark  blue  drapery  is 
touched  with  blood-red  stains  by  the  floods  of  fiery 
radiance.  The  forests  and  the  shores  melt  together  in 
rich  and  shadowy  purple,  and  the  waters  reflect  the 
splendor  of  the  heavens.  Gazing  on  the  gorgeous  sub- 
limity of  earth  and  sky,  man  may  forget  his  vexed  and 
perturbed  humanity.  Goaded  by  passions,  racked  by  vain 
desires,  tossed  on  the  tunmltuous  sea  of  earthly  troubles, 
amid  doubt  and  disappointment,  pain  and  care,  he  awakens 
to  new  hope  as  he  beholds  the  glory  of  declining  day,  and 
rises  in  serene  strength  to  meet  that  majestic  smile  of  God. 
The  light  departed,  and  the  colors  faded  away.  Only 
a  dusky  redness  lingered  in  the  west,  and  the  darkening 
earth  seemed  her  dull  self  agaia.  Then  night  descended, 
heavy  and  black,  on  the  fierce  Indians  and  the  sleepless 
English.     From  sunset  till  dawn,  an  anxious  watch  was 


f^M-'ii^--<P^" 


i  III 


164 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


M  i 


kept  from  the  slender  palisades  of  Detroit.  The  soldiers 
were  still  ignorant  of  the  danger,  and  the  sentinels  did 
not  know  why  their  numbers  were  doubled,  or  why,  with 
such  unwonted  vigilance,  their  officers  visited  their  posts. 
Again  and  again  Gladwyn  mounted  his  wooden  ramparts 
and  looked  forth  into  the  gloom.  There  seemed  nothing 
but  repose  and  peace  in  the  soft,  moist  air  of  the  warm 
spring  evening,  with  the  piping  of  frogs  along  the  river 
bank,  just  roused  from  their  torpor  by  the  genial  influence 
of  May.  I^ut,  at  intervals,  as  the  night  wind  swept  across 
the  bastion,  it  bore  sounds  of  fearful  portent  to  the  ear,  the 
sullen  booming  of  the  Indian  drum  and  the  wild  chorus 
of  quavering  yells,  as  the  warriors,  around  their  distant 
camp-fires,  danced  the  war-dance,  in  preparation  for  the 
morrow's  work. 


li'i'i 


Nhii 


ii:! 


I'  '  HI 


H    ■I. 

5    V 


3 


.111 


CHAPTER  XI. 


TREACHERY    OF    PONTIAC. 


The  night  passed  without  alarm.  The  sun  rose  upon 
fresh  fields  and  newly  budding  woods,  and  scarcely  had 
the  morning  mists  dissolved,  when  the  garrison  could  see 
a  fleet  of  birch  canoes  crossing  the  river  from  the  eastern 
shore,  within  range  of  cannon  shot  above  the  fort.  Only 
two  or  three  warriors  appeared  in  each,  but  all  moved 
slowly  and  seemed  deeply  laden.  In  truth,  they  were 
full  of  savages,  lying  flat  on  their  faces,  that  their  num- 
bers might  not  excite  the  suspicion  of  the  English. 

At  an  early  hour,  the  open  common  behind  the  fort 
was  thronged  with  squaws,  children,  and  warriors,  some 
naked,  and  others  fantastically  arrayed  in  their  barbarous 
finery.  All  seemed  restless  and  uneasy,  moving  hither 
and  thither,  in  apparent  preparation  for  a  general  game 
of  ball.  Many  tall  warriors,  wrapped  in  their  blankets, 
were  seen  stalking  towards  the  fort,  and  casting  malignant 
furtive  glances  upward  at  the  palisades.  Then,  with  an 
air  of  assumed  indifference,  they  would  move  towards 
the  gate.  They  were  all  admitted ;  for  Gladwyn,  who  in 
this  instance,  at  least,  showed  some  knowledge  of  Indian 
character,  chose  to  convince  his  crafty  foe  that,  though 
their  plot  was  detected,  their  hostility  was  despised. 

The  whole  garrison  was  ordered  under  arms.  Sterling, 
and  the  other  English  fur-traders,  closed  their  storehouses 
and  armed  their  men,  and  all  in  cool  confidence  stood 
waiting  the  result. 

Meanwhile,  Pontiac,  who  had  crossed  with  the  canoes 
from  the  eastern  shore,  was  approaching  along  the  river 

XuaUy  av   1/ii.c  xicci;^  xj^  ;3x.a.vj     viii-^xc;,  axx  ^xavcxj     ilia.xuixiii^   ill 

165 


1' 
i,' 
i 

i 

,1 

1    f 

1 

111 


1 1 


J. 


?« 


!    J    5  t   571 


fi 


11!' 


!'  -  il:  ■ 


I 


■■ 


I 


li; 

[I: 

1!; 


■:i,    'If! 


166 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Indian  file.  A  Canadian  settler,  named  Beaufait,  had 
been  that  morning  to  the  fort.  He  was  now  returning 
homewards,  and  as  he  reached  the  bridge  which  led  over 
the  stream  then  called  Parent's  Creek,  he  saw  the  chiefs 
in  the  act  of  crossing  from  the  farther  bank.  He  stood 
aside  to  give  them  room.  As  the  last  Indian  passed, 
Beaufait  recognized  him  as  an  old  friend  and  associate! 
The  savage  greeted  him  with  the  usual  ejaculation,  opened 
for  an  instant  the  folds  of  his  blanket,  disclosed  the 
hidden  gun,  and,  with  an  emphatic  gesture  towards  the 
fort,  indicated  the  ferocious  purpose  to  which  he  meant 
to  apply  it. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  great  war-chief,  with   his  treach- 
erous  followers,  reached  the   fort,  and  the  gateway  was 
thronged  with  their  savage  faces.     All  were  wrapped  to 
the  throat  in  colored  blankets.     Some  were  crested  with 
hawk,  eagle,  or  raven  plumes ;  others  had  shaved  their 
heads,  leaving  only  the  fluttering  scalp-lock  on  the  crown ; 
while  others,  again,  wore  their  long,  black  hair  flowing 
loosely  at  their   backs,  or   wildly   hanging  about  their 
brows  like  a  lion's  mane.     Their  bold  yet  crafty  features, 
their  cheeks  besmeared  with  ochre  and  vermilion,  white 
lead  and  soot,  their  keen,  deepset  eyes  gleaming  in  their 
sockets,  like  those  of  rattlesnakes,  gave  them  an  aspect 
grim,   uncouth,  and   horrible.     For   the  most  part,  they 
were  tall,  strong  men,  and  all  had  a  gait  and  bearing  of 
peculiar  stateliness. 

As  Pontiac  entered,  it  is  said  tjiat  he  started,  and  that 
a  deep  ejaculation  half  escaped  from  hit;  broad  chest. 
Well  might  his  stoicism  fail,  for  a  glauc «  be  read  the 
ruin  of  his  plot.  On  either  hand,  within  ^he  gateway 
stood  ranks  of  soldiers  and  hedge-  of  glittering  steel. 
The  swarthy,  half-wild  engages  of  the  fisr-traders,  armed 
to  the  teeth,  stood  in  group,satthe  ,-rreetcciners,  and  the 
measured  tap  of  a  drum  fell  ominously  on  die  ear.  Soon 
regaining  his  composure,  Poni)  ic  strode  forward  into  the 
narrow  street,  and  his  chiefs  filed  {ifter  him  in  silence, 
while  the  scared  faces  of  women  aL^d  children  looked  out 


THE  PLOT  DEFEATED. 


167 


from  the  windows  as  they  passed.  Their  rigid  muscles 
betrayed  no  sign  of  emotion ;  yet,  looking  closelj^  one 
might  have  seen  their  small  eyes  glance  from  side  to  side 
with  restless  scrutiny. 

Traversing   the  entire  width  of  the  little  town,  they 
reached  the  door  of  the   council-house,  a  large  building 
standing   near  the  margin  of   the  river.     Entering,  they 
saw  Gladwyn,  with  several  of  his  officers,  seated  in  readi- 
ness to  receive   them,  and  the   observant  chiefs   did  not 
fail  to  remark  that  every  Englishman  wore  a  sword  at  his 
side,  and  a  pair  of  pistols  in  his  bolt.     The  conspirators 
eyed   each   other    with    uneasy     glances.     "Why,"  de- 
manded Pontiac,  "  do  I  see  so  many  of  my  father's  young 
men  standing  in  the  street  with  their  gun  '? "     Gladwyn 
replied   through  his   interpreter,  La   Butte,  that  he  had 
ordered  the  soldiers  under  armj  for  the  sake  of  exercise 
and   discipline.     With   much   delay   and  many   signs  of 
distrust,  the  chiefs  at  length  sat  down   on  the   mats  pre- 
pared for  them  ;  and  after  the  customary  pause,  Pontiac 
rose  to   speak.     Holding  in  his  hand  the  wampum  belt 
which  was  to  have  given   the  fatal   signal,  he   addressed 
the   commandant,  professing   strong   attachment   to  the 
English,   and   declaring,  in   Indian   phrase,  that  he  had 
come  to  smoke  the  pipe  of  r>eace,  and  brighten  the  chain 
of  friendship.     The  officers  watched  him  keenly  as  he  ut- 
tered these  hollow  wo-ds,  fearing  lest,  though  conscious 
that  his  designs  were  suspected,  he  might  still  attempt  to 
accomplish   them.    AuJ.   once,  it  is   said,  he  raised   the 
wampum   belt  as   if  c' out  to  give   the  signal   of  attack. 
But  at  that  ins^a^^,  Gladwyn   signra  slightly   with  his 
hand.     The  sucMeo  clash  of  arms  sounded  from  the  pas- 
sage  without,  and  a   drum   rolling  the  charge   filled  the 
council-room  witii   its  stunning  din.     At  this,  Pontiac 
stood  like  one  confounded.     Some  writers  will  have  it, 
that  Gladwyn,   rising  from  his   seat,  drew   the   chief's 
blanket  aside,  exposed  the  hidden  gun,  and  sternly  re- 
buked him  for  iiis  treachery.     But  the  commandant  wished 
only  to  pi  \rent  the  consummation  of  the  plot,  without 


w 

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168 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


bringing  on  an  open  rupture.  His  own  letters  affirm 
that  he  and  his  officers  remained  seated  as  before.  Pon- 
tiac,  seeing  his  unruffled  brow  and  his  calm  eye  fixed 
steadfastly  upon  him,  knew  not  what  to  think,  and  soon 
sat  down  in  amazement  and  perplexity.  Another  pause 
ensued,  and  Gladwyn  commenced  a  brief  reply.  He  as- 
sured the  chiefs  that  friendship  and  protection  should  be 
extended  towards  them  as  long  as  they  continued  to  de- 
serve it,  but  threatened  ample  vengeance  for  the  first  act 
of  aggression.  The  council  then  broke  up  ;  but  before 
leaving  the  room,  Pontiac  told  the  officers  that  he  would 
return  in  a  few  days,  with  his  squaws  and  children,  for 
he  wished  that  they  should  all  shake  hands  with  their 
fathers  the  English.  To  this  new  piece  of  treachery 
(lladwyn  deigned  no  reply.  The  gates  of  the  fort,  which 
had  been  closed  during  the  conference,  were  again  flung 
open,  and  the  baffled  savages  were  suffered  to  depart,  re- 
joiced, no  doubt,  to  breathe  once  more  the  free  air  of  the 
open  fields.* 

Gladwyn  has  been  censured,  and  perhaps  with  justice, 
for  not  detaining  the  chiefs  as  hostages  for  the  good  con- 

*  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter— Major  Gladwyn  to  Sir  J.  Amherst. 

,,  „.  "  Detroit,  May  14th  1763. 

oir '. 

"  On  tlie  First  Instant,  Pontiac,  the  Cliief  of  the  Ottawa  Na- 
tion, came  here  with  about  Fifty  of  his  Men,  (fortv,  Pontiac 
MS.,)  and  told  me  that  in  a  few  days,  when  the  rest  of  his  Na- 
tion came  in,  he  Intended  to  Pay  me  a  Formal  Visit.  The  7th  lie 
came,  but  I  was  luckily  Informed,  the  Night  before,  that  he  was 
coming  witli  an  Intention  to  Surprise  Us  ;  Upon  which  I  took 
such  Precautions  that  when  they  Entered  the  Fort,  (tho'  they 
were,  by  the  best  Accounts,  about  Tluee  Kurdred,  and  Armed 
with  Knives,  Tomyhawks,  and  a  great  man3'  mtk  Guns  cut  short 
and  hid  under  their  Blankets.)  tliey  were  so  i^ach  surprize^'  to 
see  our  Disposition,  that  they  would  scarcelysit  down  to  Coin- 
cil  :  However  in  about  Half  an  hour,  they  saw  their  Designs 
were  Discovered,  they  Sat  Down,  and  Pontiac  made  a  speech 
which  I  answered  calmly,  and  without  Intimating  my  suspi- 
cion of  their  Intentions,  and  after  receiving  some  Trifling  Pres- 
ents, they  went  away  to  their  Camp." 


THE  CHIEFS  ALLOWED  TO  ESCAPE. 


169 


duct  of  their  followers.  An  entrapped  wolf  meets  no 
quarter  from  the  huntsman  ;  and  a  savage,  caught  in  his 
treachery,  has  no  claim  to  forbearance.  Perhaps  the 
commandant  feared  lest,  should  he  arrest  the  chiefs  when 
gathered  '^t  a  public  council,  and  guiltless  as  yet  of  open 
violence,  the  act  might  be  interpreted  as  cowardly  and 
dishonorable.  lie  was  ignorant,  moreover,  of  the  true 
nature  of  the  plot.  In  his  view,  the  whole  affair  was  one 
of  those  impulsive  outbreaks  so  common  among  Indians, 
and  he  trusted  that,  c  im  an  immediate  rupture  be 
averted,  the  threatening  ,  Unu  s  would  soon  blow  over. 

Here,  and  elsewhere,  the  mduct  of  Pontiac  is  marked 
with  the  blackest  treachery ;  and  one  cannot  but  lament 
that  a  nature  so  brave,  so  commanding,  so  magnanimous, 
should  be  stained  with  the  odious  vice  of  cowards  and 
traitors.  He  could  govern,  with  almost  despotic  sway,  a 
race  unruly  as  the  winds.  In  generous  thought  and  deed, 
he  rivalled  the  heroes  of  ancient  story,  and  craft  and  cun- 
ning might  well  seem  alien  to  a  mind  like  his.  Yet  Pon- 
tiac was  a  thorough  savage,  and  in  him  stand  forth,  in 
strongest  light  and  shadow,  the  native  faults  and  virtues 
of  the  Indian  race.  All  children,  says  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
are  naturally  liars ;  and  truth  and  honor  are  developments 
of  later  education.  Barbarism  is  to  civilization  what 
childhood  is  to  maturity,  and  all  savages,  whatever  may 
be  their  country,  their  color,  or  their  lineage,  are  prone 
to  treachery  and  deceit.  The  barbarous  ancestors  of  our 
own  frank  and  manly  race  are  no  less  obnoxious  to  the 
charge  than  those  of  the  cat-like  J^engalee ;  for  in  this 
childliood  of  society,  brave  men  and  cowards  are  treacher- 
ous alike. 

The  Indiiin  differs  widely  from  the  European  in  his 
notion  of  military  virtue.  In  his  view,  artifice  is  Avisdom, 
and  he  honors  the  skill  that  can  circumvent,  no  less  than 
the  valor  that  can  subdue,  an  adversary.  The  object  of 
war,  he  argues,  is  to  destroy  the  enemy.  To  accomplish 
this  end,  all  means  are  honorable ;  and  it  is  folly,  not 
bravery,  to  incur  a  needless  risk.     Had  Pontiac  ordered 


h: 


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170 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


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his  followers  to  storm  the  palisades  of  Detroit,  not  one  of 
them  would  have  obeyed  him.     They  might,  indeed,  after 
their   strange    superstition,   have   reverenced   him  as  a 
madman ;  but,  from  tliat  hour,  his  fame  as  a  war-chie 
would  have  sunk  forever. 

Balked  in  his  treachery,  the  great  chief  withdrew  to 
his  village,  enraged  and  mortified,  yet  still  resolved  to 
persevere.     That  Gladwyn  had   suffered  him  to  escape, 
was  to  his  mind  an  ample   proof  either  of  cowardice  or 
Ignorance.     The  latter  supposition  seemed  the  more  prob- 
able, and  he  resolved  to  visit  the  English  once  more,  and 
convince  them,  if  possible,  that  their  suspicions  against 
him  were  unfounded.     Early  on  the  following  morning 
he  repaired  to  the  fort  with  three  of  his  chiefs,  bearing 
in  Ins  hand  the  sacred  calumet,  or  pipe  of  peace,  the  bowl 
carved   in   stone,  and  the  stem  adorned  with  feathers 
Offering  it  to  the  commandant,  he  addressed  him  and  his 
officers  to  the  following  effect :  "  My  fathers,  evil  birds 
have  sung  lies  in  your  ear.     We  that  stand  before  you 
are  friends  of  the  English.     We  love  them  as  our  brothers 
and,  to  prove  our  love,  we  have  come  this  day  to  smoke 
the  pipe  of  peace."     At  his  departure,  he  gave  the  pipe 
to  Major   Campbell,   second   in   command,   as  a  farther 
pledge  of  his  sincerity. 

That  afternoon,  the  better  to  cover  his  designs,  Pontiac 
called  the  young  men  of  all  the  tribes  to  a  game  of  ball 
which  took  place,  with  great  noise  and  shouting,  on  the 
neighboring  fields.  At  nightfall,  the  garrison  were 
startled  by  a  burst  of  loud,  shrill  yells.  The  drums  beat 
to  arms,  and  the  troops  were  ordered  to  their  posts  ;  but 
the  alarm  was  caused  only  by  the  victors  in  the  ball  play, 
who  were  announcing  their  success  by  these  discordant 
outcries.  Meanwhile,  Ptmtiac  was  in  the  Pottawattamie 
village,  consulting  with  the  chiefs  of  that  tribe,  and  with 
the  Wyandots,  by  what  means  they  might  compass  the 
ruin  of  the  English. 

Early  on  the  following  morning,  Monday,  the  ninth  of 
May,  the  French  inhabitants  went  in  procession  to  the 


PONTIAC  THROWS  OFF  THE  MASK. 


171 


principal  church  of  the  settlement,  which  stood  near  the 
liver  bank,  about  half  a  mile  above  the  fort.  Having 
lifiird  mass,  they  all  returned  before  eleven  o'clock,  with- 
out discovering  any  signs  that  the  Indians  meditated  an 
iict  of  hostility.  Scarcely,  however,  had  they  done  so, 
wlien  the  common  behind  tlie  fort  was  once  more  thronged 
with  Indians  of  all  the  four  tribes ;  and  Pontiac,  advanc- 
ing from  among  the  multitude,  approached  the  gate.  It 
was  closed  and  barred  against  him.  Pontiac  shouted  to 
the  sentinels,  and  demanded  why  he  was  refused  admit- 
tance. Gladwyn  himself  replied,  that  the  great  chief 
might  enter,  if  he  chose,  but  that  the  crowd  he  had 
l)rought  with  him  must  remain  outside.  Pontiac  rejoined, 
that  he  wished  all  his  warriors  to  enjoy  the  fragrance  of 
tlie  friendly  calumet.  Gladwyn's  answer  was  more  con- 
cise than  courteous,  and  imported  that  he  would  have 
none  of  his  rabble  in  the  fort.  Thus  repulsed,  Pontiac 
threw  off  the  mask  which  he  had  -worn  so  long.  With  a 
grin  of  hate  and  rage,  he  turned  abruptly  from  the  gate, 
and  strode  towards  his  followers,  who,  in  great  multi- 
tudes, lay  fiat  upon  the  ground,  just  beyond  reach  of 
gunshot.  At  his  approach,  they  all  leaped  up  and  ran 
off,  "  yelping,"  in  the  words  of  an  eye-witness,  « like  so 
many  devils," 

Looking  out  from  the  loopholes,  the  garrison  could  see 
them  running  in  a  body  towards  the  house  of  an  old 
English  woman,  who  lived,  with  her  family,  on  a  distant 
part  of  the  common.  They  beat  down  the  doors,  and 
rushed  tumultuously  in.  A  moment  more,  and  the 
mournful  scalp  yell  told  the  fate  of  the  wretched  inmates. 
Another  large  bo^ly  ran,  with  loud  yells,  to  the  river 
bank,  and,  leaping  into  their  canoes,  paddled  with  all 
speed  to  the  Isle  au  Cochon.  Here  dwelt  an  Englishman, 
named  Fisher,  formerly  a  sergeant  of  the  regulars. 

They  soon  dragged  him  from  the  hiding-place  where 
he  had  sought  refuge,  murdered  him  on  tlie  spot,  took 
liis  scalp,  and  made  great  rejoicings  over  this  miserable 
"  i'-v  ^''^  F^-ivivai  iiitixiLx:.     v/ii  i,iic   iwiiOv.iiig  uiiy,  scverdi 


tfi'lfFfi 


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172 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


CanadiaiiH  crossed  over  t<)  the  island  to  inter  the  hody, 
which  they  aticonipHshcjd,  as  they  thought,  v(uy  effect- 
ually. Tradition,  however,  rtdatt^s,  as  undouhted  truth, 
that  when,  a  few  days  after,  some  of  the  party  returned 
to  the  spot,  they  heheld  the  pale  hands  of  the  dead  man 
thrust  above  tlu;  gTound,  in  an  attitude  of  eager  entreaty. 
Having  once  more  covered  the  refractory  mend)ers  with 
earth,  they  de})artcd,  in  great  wonder  jind  awe  ;  but  what 
was  their  amazenuuit,  when,  on  returning  a  second  time, 
lh(\y  saw  the  hands  protruding  as  before.  At  this,  they 
repaired  in  horror  to  the  [)riest,  who  hastened  to  the  spot, 
si)rinkle(l  the  grave  with  holy  water,  and  performed  over 
it  the  neglected  rites  of  burial.  Thenceforth,  says  the 
tradition,  the  corpse  of  the  murdered  soldier  slept  in 
peace. 

Pontiac  had  i)orne  no  part  in  the  wolfish  d(H;ds  of  his 
followers.     When  he  saw  his  i)lan  dc^feated,  he  turned 
towards  the  shore,  and  no  man  durst  approacjh  him,  for 
he  was  terrible  in  his  rage,     l^ushing  a  canoe  from  the 
bank,  he  urgent  it,  with  vigorous  strokes,  against  the  cur- 
rent, towards  the  Ottawa  village,  on  the  farther  side.     As 
he  drew  near,  he  shouted  to  the  inmates.     None  remained 
in  the  lodges  but  women,  children,  and  old  men,  who  all 
came  flocking  out  at  the  sound  of  his  imperious  voice. 
Pointing  across  the  water,  he   ordered  that  all   should 
prepare  to  move  the  camp  to  the  western  shore,  that  the 
river  might  no  longer  interpose  a  barrier  between  his 
followers  and  the  English.     Tlie   squaws  labored  with 
eager  alacrity  to  obey  him.     Provision,  utensils,  weapons, 
and  even  the  bark  covering  to  the  lodges,  were  carried  to 
the  shore ;  and  before  evening  all  was  ready  for  embark- 
ation.    Meantime,   the   warriors  had  come   dropping  in 
from  their  bloody  work,  until,  at  nightfall,  nearly  all  had 
returned.     Tlim  Pontiac,  hideous  in  his  war-paint,  leaped 
into   the   central   area  of  the   village.     Brandishing  his 
tomahawk,  and  stamping  on  the  ground,  he  recounted  his 
former  exploits,  and  denounced  vengeance  on  the  English. 
Tlie  Indians  flocked  about  him.     Warrior  after  Vvarrior 


GENERAL  ATTACK. 


173 


caught  the  fierce  contagion,  and  Hoon  the  ring  was  filled 
with  dancers,  circling  round  and  round  with  frantic 
gesture,  and  startling  the  distant  garrison  with  unearthly 

yells. 

The  war-dance  over,  the  work  of  emharkation  was  coni- 
incnced,  and  long  hefore  morning  the  transfer  was  (!oni- 
pU^te.  The  whole  Ottawa  population  crossed  the  river, 
and  pitched  their  wigwams  on  the  western  side,  just 
jibove  the  mouth  of  the  little  stream  then  known  as  Par- 
ent's Creek,  hut  since  named  Bloody  Run,  from  the 
scones  of  terror  which  it  witnessed. 

During  the  evening,  fresh  tidings  of  disaster  reached 
the  fort.  A  Canadian,  named  Desnoyers,  came  down  the 
river  in  a  hirch  canoe,  and,  landing  at  the  water  gate, 
brought  news  that  two  English  officers,  Sir  Robert 
Davers  and  Captain  Robertson,  had  been  waylaid  and 
murdered  by  the  Indians,  above  Lake  St.  Clair.*  The 
Canadian  declared,  moreover,  that  Pontiac  had  just  been 
joined  by  a  formidable  band  of  C)  jib  was,  from  the  Bay  of 
Saginaw.  These  were  a  peculiarly  ferocious  horde,  and 
their  wretched  descendants  still  retain  the  character. 

Every  Englishman  in  the  fort,  whether  trader  or  soldier, 
was  now  ordered  under  arms.  No  man  lay  down  to  sleep, 
and  Gladwyn  himself  walked  the  ramparts  throughout 
the  night. 

All  was  quiet  till  the  approach  of  dawn.  But  as  the 
first  dim  redness  tinged  the  east,  and  fields  and  woods 
grew  visible  in  the  morning  twilight,  suddenly  the  war- 

*  Extract  from  an  anonymous  letter— Detroit,  July  9,  1763. 

"You  have  long  ago  heard  of  our  pleasant  Situation,  but  the 
Storm  is  blown  over.  Was  it  not  very  agreeable  to  hear  every 
Day,  of  their  cutting,  carving,  boiling  and  eating  our  Com- 
panions ?  To  see  every  Day  dead  Bodies  floating  down  the  Riv- 
er, mangled  and  disfigured  ?  But  Britons,  you  know,  never 
shrink ;  we  always  appeared  gay,  to  spite  the  Rascals.  They 
boiled  and  eat  Sir  Robert  Davers  ;  and  we  are  informed  by  Mr. 
Pauly,  who  escaped  the  other  Day  from  one  of  the  Stations  sur- 
prised at  the  breaking  out  of  the  War,  and  commanded  by  him- 
self, that  he  had  seen  an  Indian  have  the  Skin  of  Captain  Robert- 
son's Arm  for  a  Tobacoo-Pouch  1  " 


j  I 


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174 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Whoop  rase  on  every  side  at  oiK^e.     As  wolves  assail  tli,. 
wounded  bison,  howling  thcur  gathering  cries  aca-oss  tl.. 
wintry  prairie,  so  tiie  tien.e  Indians,  pealing  their  terrilic 
yells,   eame  bounding   naked  to    the  assault.     Tlie  men 
hastened  to  their  posts.     And  truly  it  was  time,  for  not 
the  Ottawas  alone,  but  tlie  whole barbaiian swarm,  Wyan- 
dots,    Pottawattamies,   and   Ojibwas,    were   upon    them 
and  bullets   rapped  hard  and  fast  against  the  palisades' 
The  soldiers  look<>d  from  tlu^  loopholes,  thinking  to  sec^ 
their  assailants  gatluu'ing  for  a  rush  against  th,;  feeble 
Imrrier.     Hut,  though   tludr  elamors  tilled  the  air,  and 
their  guns  blazed  thick  and  hot,  yea  very  few  were  visible 
Some   were   ensconced   behind  barns   and   fences,   some 
skulked  among  bushes,  and  some  lay  flat  in  hollows  of 
the  ground;  while  those   who  could  find  no  shelter  were 
leaping  about  with  the  agility  of  monkeys,  to  dodge  the 
shot  of  the  forti;     Each  had  tilled  his  mouth  with  bullets 
for  the  convenience  of  leading,  and  each  was  charghig 
and  tiring  without  suspending  these  agile  gymnastics  for 
a  moment      There  was  (me  low  hill,  at  no  great  distaiun^ 
trom  the  fort,  behind  which  counth^ss  black  heads  of  In- 
dians alternately  appeared  and  vanished,  while,  all  aloiifj 
the  ridge,  their  guns  emitted  incessant  u'hite  puffs  of 
smoke.     Every  loophole  was  a  targ(>t  for  their  bullets  • 
but  the  fire  was  returned  with  stinuliness,  and  not  with' 
outelfect.     The  Canadian  e,H/mr,  of  the  fur-traders  re- 
torted  the  Indian  war-whoops  wMth  outcries  not  less  dis 
eordant,  while  the  iiritish  and  provincials  paid  back  tile 
clamor  of  the  enemy  with  musket  and  rifle  balls.     Within 
half  gunshot  of  the  palisade  was  a  cluster  of  outbuildino-s 
behind  which  a  host  of  Indians  found  shelter.    A  cannon 
was   brought   to  bear  upon  them,   loaded  with  red-hot 
spikes.     They  were  soon  wrapped  in  flames,  upon  which 
the  disconcerted  savages  bioke  away  in  a  l)ody,  and  ran  otl" 
ye^iiig,  followed  by  a  shout  of  laughter  from  the  soldiers. 
For  six  hours,  the  attack  was  unabated ;  but  as  the  day 
advanced,  the  assailants  grew  weary  of  their  futile  efforts 
Their  fire  slackened,  their  clamors  died  away,  and  the 


A  TRUCE. 


175 


garrison  was  left  once  more  in  peace,  though  Irom  time 
to  time  a  solitary  shot,  or  lonely  whoop,  still  showtul  the 
l)r('Hen(!e  of  some  lingering  savage,  loath  to  be  balked  of 
his  revenge.  Among  the  garrison,  only  five  men  had 
l)een  wonnded,  while  the  cantions  enemy  had  suffered  but 
trifling  loss. 

(iladwyn  was  still  convinced  that  the  whole  affair  was 
but  a  sudden  el)ullition,  which  would  soon  subside  ;  and 
Ix'ing,  moreovcir,  in  great  want  of  provision,  he  resolved 
to  op(ni  negotiations  with  the  Indians,  under  (»over  of 
wliifih  he  might  obtain  tlu)  ncn-essary  supplies.  The  inter- 
])ri^t{^r.  La  Butte,  who,  like;  most  of  his  countrymen,  might 
be  said  to  hold  a  neutral  position  between  the  English 
and  the  Indians,  was  despatched  to  the  camp  of  Pontiac 
to  (kanand  the  reasons  of  his  conduct,  and  declare  that 
the  connnandant  was  ready  to  redress  any  real  grievance 
of  which  he  might  complain.  Two  old  Canadians  of 
Detroit,  Chapeton  and  Godefroy,  earnest  to  forward  the 
negotiation,  offered  to  accompany  him.  The  gates  were 
opened  for  their  departure,  and  many  other  inhiibitants  of 
the  place  took  this  opportunity  of  leaving  it,  alleging  as 
their  motive,  tliat  they  did  not  wish  to  see  the  approach- 
ing slaughter  of  the  English. 

Reaching  the  Indian  camp,  the  three  ambassadors  were 
reeeived  by  I'ontiac  with  great  apparent  kindness.  La 
Butte  delivered  his  message,  and  the  two  Canadians 
labored  to  dissuade  the  chief,  for  his  own  good  and  for 
theirs,  from  pursuing  his  hostile  purposes.  Pontiac  stood 
listening,  armed  with  the  true  impenetrability  of  an 
Indian.  At  every  proposal,  he  uttered  an  ejaculation  of 
assent,  partly  from  a  strange  notion  of  courtesy  peculiar 
to  his  race,  and  partly  from  the  deep  dissimulation  which 
seems  native  to  their  blood.  Yet  with  all  this  seeming 
acquiescence,  the  heart  of  the  savage  was  unmoved  as  a 
rock.  The  Canadians  were  completely  deceived.  Leav- 
ing Chapeton  and  Godefroy  to  continue  the  conferc  ice  and 
push  the  fancied  advantage.  La  Butte  hastened  back  to 
the  fort.     He  reported  the  happy  issue  of  his  mission,  and 


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23  WIST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MSSO 

(716)872-4503 


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176 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


added  that  peace  might  readily  be  had  by  makine  the 
Indians  a  few  presents,  for  which  they  are  always  rapa- 
ciously eager.     When,  however,  he  returned  to  the  IndUm 
camp,  he  found,  to  his  chagrin,  that  his  companions  had 
made  no  progress  in  the  negotiation.     Though  still  pro- 
fessing a  strong  desire   for  peace,   Pontiac  had  evaded 
every  definite  proposal.      At  La  Butte's  appearance,  all 
the  chiefs  withdrew  to  consult  among  themselves.     Thev 
returned  after  a  short  debate,  and  Pontiac  declared  that 
out  of  their  earnest  desire  for  firm  and  lasting  peace,  they 
wished  to  hold  council  with  their  English  fathers  them- 
selves    With  this  view,  they  were  expressly  desirous 
that  Major  Campbell,  second  in  command,  should  visit 
their  camp.     This  veteran  officer,  from  his  jusc,  upright 
and  manly  character,  had  gained  the  confidence  of  the 
Indians.     To  the  Canadians  the  proposal  seemed  a  natural 
one,  and  returnkg  to  the  fort,  they  laid  it  before  the  com- 
mandant.      Gladwyn    suspected    treachery,   but    Maior 
Campbell  urgently  asked  permission  to  comply  with  the 
request  of  Pontiac.     He  felt,  he  said,  no  fear  of  the  In- 
dians with  whom  he  had  always  maintained  the  most 
friendly  terms.     Gladwyn,  with  some  hesitation,  acceded 
and   Campbell  left  the  fort,  accompanied   by  a  iunior 
officer.  Lieutenant  M'Dougal,  and  attended  by  La  Butte 
and  several  other  Canadians. 

In  the  meantime,  M.  Gouin,  anxious  to  learn  what 
was  passing,  had  entered  the  Indian  camp,  and,  moving 
from  lodge  to  lodge,  soon  saw  ^,nd  heard  enough  to  con- 
vince him  that  the  two  British  officers  were  advancing 
mto  the  lion's  jaws.*  He  hastened  to  despatch  two  mes- 
sengers to  warn  them  of  the  peril.  The  party  had 
scarcely  left  the  gate  when  they  were  met*  by  these  men, 
breathless  with  running ;  but  the  warning  came  too  late. 
Once  embarked  on  the  embassy,  the  officers  would  nol  be 
diverted  from  it ;  and  passing  up  the  river  road,  they  ap- 
proached the  little  wooden  budge  that  led  over  Parent's 
Creek.     Crossing  this  bridge,  and  ascending  a  rising 

*  Gouin's  Account,  MS. 


EMBASSY  OF  MAJOR  CAMPBELL. 


177 


ground  beyond,  they  saw  before  them  the  wide-spread 
camp  of  the  Ottawas.  A  dark  multitude  gathered  along 
its  outskirts,  and  no  sooner  did  they  recognize  the  red 
uniform  of  the  oflBcers,  than  they  all  raised  at  once  ^  hor- 
rible outcry  of  whoops  and  uowlings.  Indeed,  they 
seemed  disposed  io  give  the  ambassadors  the  reception 
usually  accorded  to  captives  taken  in  war ;  for  the  women 
seized  sticks,  stones,  and  clubs,  and  ran  towards  Camp- 
bell and  his  companion,  as  if  to  make  them  pass  the  cruel 
ordeal  of  running  the  gantlet.*  Pontiac  came  forward, 
and  his  voice  allayed  the  tumult.  He  shook  the  officers 
by  the  hand,  and,  turning,  led  the  way  through  the  camp. 
It  was  a  confused  assemblage  of  huts,  chiefly  of  a  conical 
or  half-spherical  shape,  and  constructed  of  a  slender 
framework  covered  with  rush  mats  or  sheets  of  birch 
bark.  Many  of  the  graceful  birch  canoes,  used  by  the 
Indians  of  the  upper  lakes,  were  lying  here  and  there 
among  pacdles,  fish-spears,  and  blackened  kettles  slung 
above  the  embers  of  the  fires.  The  camp  was  full  of  lean, 
wolfish  dogs,  who,  roused  by  the  clamor  of  their  owners, 
kept  up  a  discordant  baying  as  the  strangers  passed. 
Pontiac  paused  before  the  entrance  of  a  large  lodge,  and, 
entering,  pointed  to  several  mats  placed  on  the  ground, 

*  Wlien  a  war  party  returned  with  prisoners,  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  the  village  turned  out  to  receive  them,  armed  with  sticks, 
clubs,  or  even  deadlier  weapons.  The  captive  was  ordered  to 
run  to  a  given  point,  usually  some  conspicuous  lodge,  or  a  )st 
driven  into  the  ground,  while  his  tormentors,  ranging  them- 
selves in  two  rows,  inflicted  on  him  a  merciless  flagellation, 
which  only  ceased  when  he  had  reached  the  goal.  Among  the 
Iroquois,  prisoners  were  led  through  the  whole  confederacy,  un- 
dergoing this  martyrdom  at  every  village,  and  seldom  escaping 
without  the  loss  of  a  hand,  a  finger,  or  an  eye.  Sometimes  the 
sufferer  was  made  to  dance  and  sing,  for  the  better  entertain- 
ment of  the  crowd. 

The  story  of  General  Stark  is  well  known.  Being  captured,  in 
his  youth,  by  the  Indians,  and  told  to  run  the  gantlet,  he  in- 
stantly knocked  down  the  nearest  warrior,  snatched  a  club  from 
his  hands,  and  wielded  it  with  such  good  will  that  no  one  dared 
approach  him,  and  he  reached  the  goal  scot  free,  while  his  more 
timorous  companion  was  nearly  beaten  to  death. 
12 


I  1 


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178  THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 

stnal  It  r''^^  '^'  ''^'''^^-    "^'"'^  obedient  to  his 
signal,  the  two  officers  sat  down      Trmti^nH^r  ^u^  i  J 

was  thronged  with  ravages,    sle,  ind  ?h/«e  wt  e  fS 

fZ^n  JT       i^  strangers,  while  the  remaining  space 
was  filled  by  a  dense  crowd,  crouching  or  staoidinf  cTc? 

:^r-Ke\xt:':ttrs  f^ 

osityTa  ^ght  jf  the  ^T^'  *'""  *"'1"'8«  *«'^  ""ri- 

ca.uccriiifo^x'ir^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Wi^  placed,  resolved  fully  to  ascertain  his  tme^stion 

tolheXf  W"^  ''?"'"''  ■•'«  intention  :rreCS 
Ws  sear.Mrfl^nl'  ^''^  «>'*'  he  should  resumf 

andhis..p.„..„.-XdT^t:W^^^^^^^^ 

£:^ttvrir=-rcr^^^^^^^^ 

been  det^ined^^  tttXtn^e^tXt^'':^^^^^^ 
mamed  prisoners  in  the  power  of  the^comrand^t . 

^•_^Ext«.ot  from  a  MS.  Letter-Sir  J.  Amherst  to  Major  Glad- 
"  m  Precautions  .ou  too.  wheX  Sr^£sVS.l'^„, 


CAMPBELL  MADE  PRISONER. 


179 


Late  in  the  evening,  La  Butte,  the  interpreter,  returned 
to  the  fort.  His  face  wore  a  sad  and  downcast  look, 
which  sufficiently  expressed  the  melancholy  tidings  that 
he  brought.  On  hearing  his  account,  some  of  the  officers 
suspected,  though  probably  without  ground,  that  he  was 
privy  to  the  detention  of  the  two  ambassadors  ;  and  La 
Butte,  feeling  himself  an  object  of  distrust,  lingered  about 
the  streets,  sullen  and  silent,  like  the  Indians  among 
whom  his  rough  life  had  been  spent. 

to  Pay  you  a  Visit,  were  Indeed  very  wisely  Concerted  ;  And  I 
Approve  Entirely  of  the  Steps  you  have  since  taken  for  the  De- 
fence of  the  Place,  which,  I  hope,  will  have  Enabled  You  to  keep 
the  Savages  at  Bay  untill  the  Reinforcement,  which  Major  Wilkins 
Writes  me  he  had  sent  you.  Arrives  with  you. 

"  I  most  sincerely  Grieve  for  the  Unfortunate  Fate  of  Sir 
Robert  Davers,  Lieut.  Robertson,  and  the  Rest  of  the  Poor  People, 
who  have  fallen  into  the  Har''  of  the  Merciless  Villains.  I 
Trust  you  did  not  Know  of  the  Murder  of  those  Gentlemen,  when 
Pontiac  came  with  a  Pipe  of  Peace,  for  if  you  had,  you  certainly 
would  have  put  him,  and  Every  Indian  in  your  Power,  to  Death. 
Such  Retaliation  is  the  only  Way  of  Treating  such  Miscreants. 

•*  I  cannot  but  Approve  of  your  having  Permitted  Captain 
Campbell  and  Lieut.  MacDougal  to  go  to  the  Indians,  as  you  had 
no  other  Method  to  Procure  Provisions,  by  which  means  you  may 
have  been  Enabled  to  Preserve  the  Garrison  ;  for  no  Other  In- 
ducement should  have  prevailed  on  you  to  Allow  those  Gentleman 
to  Entrust  themselves  with  the  Savages.  I  am  Nevertheless  not 
without  my  Fears  for  them,  and  were  it  not  that  you  have  two 
Indians  in  your  Hands,  in  Lieu  of  those  Gentlemen,  I  should 
give  them  over  for  Lost. 

"  I  shall  Add  no  more  at  present ;  Capt.  Dalzell  will  Inform 
you  of  the  steps  taken  for  Reinforcing  you  ;  and  you  may  be  as- 
sured— the  utmost  Expedition  will  be  used  for  Collecting  such  a 
Force  as  may  be  Sufficient  for  bringing  Ample  Vengeance  on 
the  Treacherous  and  Bloody  Villains  who  have  so  Perfidiously 
Attacked  their  Benefactors." 


mw 


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I  i 


(IIAPTEU  xir. 

1M>NTIA('    AT    Tinc    H\KUK   OV    OKTllOIT. 

On  tho   m()nilnj(  aftor  ilu>  (U»((»n(lon   of  Uw  oftlcM^rs, 

Pontlao  oroM80(l  t)vor,  with  hovim'hI  of  IUh  clilt'fH,  to  Mu< 

Wyandot  vllliiKi*.     A  imrt.  of  thin   trllus   InHuiMwtMJ  by 

Kuthor  rothltM\  thi^ir  .losiiit  prit^wt,  luui  n»fuH(>(l  to  tako 

up  \m\\n  «KtiinHt  tlu>  Ktijj^lish  ;  but,  boinj?  now  tlncatouod 

with  doHtnu»tlou  if  th»\v  shouUl  lougi»r  rtMuain  ucutml, 

thoy  woiv  ftmvd  to  jolu  tho  n\st.    Tboy  HtlpulattMl,  how- 

ovoi\  that  thoy.Hhouhl    Ik>  allowiMl  tlnio   to  h(>ni    luaHs, 

iH^foiv  dauoluj?  tiu»  wuMlautv.     To  (his  roudition  l'oiitia(5 

muUly  afftvod,  "although/'  obs(MV(»s  (hi»  chronicler iu  tlu^ 

fulnoss  of  his  hornn'  and  dofostution,  "  ho  hiujst^lf  had  no 

niannor  of  wovshiis  and  oarod  tiot  for  ft\MtivaUs  ov  Sini- 

days/'    Thovso   nt)nnnal    (Christians  of   Father   l»othi(M''s 

fl»vk,  t<>g<>thor   with  tho  othor  Wyandots,   s«h)u  distin- 

guishod   tluMusolvos  lu  tlio  war  ;  tightiug  bi^ttor,  it  was 

8jdd,  than  all  tluM>thor  Indians    an  instancoof  the  marked 

suiHn'iority  of  (he  Ii\Hpu>is  over  the  Algon(|uJ'-  stock. 

Having  secured  these  new  allies,  Poutiat^  ..n^panul  to 
nvsumo  his  opemtiott  with  fivsh  vigor;  aial  t<)'this  intiMit, 
he  made  an  in\pi\>ved  dispovsition*  of  his  forces.  Some  of 
the  PottjiwUtamies  weiv  imieivd  to  lie  iu  wait  along  the 
river  hiuk,  Mow  the  fort;  while  others  concealed  them- 
selvci*  in  the  w^hmIs,  in  oinler  to  intercept  any  Knglish- 
nian  who  tnight  apprtxu'h  by  land  or  water.  Another 
huul  of  the  v^;ime  triln*  \\x»n^  to  t»onceal  theniselves  in  the 
neig!\lxn1uxxi  of  the  fort,  when  no  gtMienil  attack  was 
gi>ing  forxmrd,  in  oixler  to  shot>t  down  any  soldier  or 
tnider  who  might  chance  to  ex|>i\*?e  his  inn^son.  On  the 
twelfth  of  ^fay,  when  these  arrangements  were  complete, 
180  ^      * 


PEUIL  OF  THK  (lARUIHON. 


181 


i\w  TndijinR  onrn  morn  Hurroundod  tho  fort,  firing  upon  it 
from  morning  till  niglit. 

On  tli(i  nvcuiing  of  tluit  day,  tlui  oflflwrH  mot  toconHidor 
wliiit  (MMirHo  of  (;ondu(!t  tho  onuirgonciy  roquircMl ;  and,  aH 
Olio  of  tluMn  wriUfH,  ihi)  (Kmnnaiulant  waH  aInioHt  alone  in 
liui  opinion  that  tli(!y  ought  Htill  to  d()f<md  the  place.  It 
H(^(im(Ml  to  the  rent  that  tlie  only  (lourne  remaining  wan  to 
cMihiirk  and  Hail  for  Niagara.  Tluiir  eonditi(m  appeared 
d(>Hp(U'at(s  for,  on  tlu?  HhorteHt  allowance,  th(?y  liadHcarcely 
provision  cmough  to  Hustain  the  garriHon  three  weeks, 
within  which  time  there  waH  little  hope  of  Huccor.  The 
lioUHCH,  hiding,  mor(M)V(;r,  of  wood,  and  chiefly  thatc;h(;d 
with  Htraw,  might  he  H(?t  on  f.re  with  Imrning  miHHilcH. 
Hut  the  chief  api)rehenHionH  of  the  officers  arose  from 
(luMr  dread  tluit  tlm  enemy  would  make  a  general  onset, 
Mild  (Mit  or  hurn  their  way  through  the  pi(!ket8 — a  mode 
of  attuck  to  whi(^h  resistance  would  he  nnavailing.  Their 
anxit^ty  on  this  s(U)re  was  relieved  l)y  a  Canadian  in  the 
fort,  who  had  sptMit  Imlf  his  life  among  Indians,  and  who 
now  assuHMl  tlie  connnandant  that  every  maxim  of  their 
warfare  was  oppos(Ml  to  such  a  nu^asure.  Indeed,  an 
Indian's  idea  of  military  honor  wid(;ly  differs,  as  before 
ol)S(M*ved  from  that  of  a  white  man  ;  for  he  holds  it  to  con- 
sist no  li\ss  in  a  wary  regard  to  his  own  life  than  in  the 
courage  and  impetuosity  with  which  he  asaailB  his  enemy. 
His  constant  aim  is  to  gain  advantjiges  without  incurring 
loss,  lie  sets  an  inestimable  value  on  the  lives  of  his  own 
party,  and  deems  a  victory  dearly  purchased  by  the 
death  of  a  single  warrior.  A  war-chief  attains  the  sum- 
niit  of  his  renown  when  he  can  Ixmst  that  he  has  brought 
home  a  score  of  scalps  without  the  loss  of  a  man  ;  and  his 
rcputution  is  wofuUy  abridged  if  the  mournful  wailings  of 
the  women  mingle  with  the  exulting  yells  of  the  warriors. 
Yet,  with  all  his  subtlety  and  caution,  the  Indian  is  not  a 
coward,  and,  in  his  own  way  of  fighting,  often  exhibits 
no  ordinary  counige.  Stealing  alone  into  the  heart  of  an 
enemy's  country,  he  prowls  around  the  hostile  village, 
watching  every  movement  j  and  when  night  sets  m,  he 


m 


182 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  I'ONTIAO. 


enters  a  lodge,  and  calmly  stirs  the  decaying  embers, 
that,  by   he.r  light,  he  may  select  his  sleeping  vS 

toe  aft«r  foe,  and  tears  away  scalp  after  scalp,  until  at 
length  an  alarm  is  given ;  then,  with  a  wild  Til  he 
bounds  out  into  the  darkness,  and  is  gone 

Time  passed  on,  and  brought  little  change  and  no  relief 
to  the  harassed  and  endangered  garrison.  Day  after  day 
the  Indians  continued  their  attacks,  until  their  war-cries 
and  the  rattle  of  their  guns  became  familiar  sounT 

For  many  weeks,  no  man  lay  down  to  sleep,  except  in 
his  clothes,  and  with  his  weapons  by  his  side  ♦  Parties 
of  vo  unteers  sallied,  from  time  to  time,  to  burn  the  out- 
buildings which  gave  shelter  to  the  enemy.  They  cut  down 

th"  fort  ZV""'  '"r"""  *''"'=''^'  ""'"  *«  gro^d  aZ" 
the  fort  was  clear  and  open,  and  the  enemy  had  no  cover 

left  from  whence  to  Are.    The  two  vessels  in  the  rivTr 

wTrt7-  fl  "°!;"!''™  '""1  ^°"*«™  «"^t^'"«  of  the  works 
with  their  Are,  deterred  the  Indians  from  approaching 
those  points,  and  gave  material  aid  to  the  garrison     S  m 

sXs  bfh  mt"""'  *'""^'^  ^'^  ^'"^'^  *«"-"«  the- 
selves  behind  every  rising  ground,  the  pertinacious  savages 

would  crawl  close  to  the  palisade,  and  shoot  arrows!^]^ped 
^*  MS.  Letter  from  an  officer  at  Detroit-no  sigaature^uly 
Extract  from  a  letter  dated  Detroit,  July  6 

the  Commanding  Officer  tl.  the  lowest -LS  from  fhTi/h'"", 

rrtrcKth-rorTuVHrndri^^^^^^^ 

?rt  at'us  ab^  t  ^h"r  ""/  "'S" «!'  ^^'"^  "  ^ouse  or  Garden,  f  nd 
fore  Yesterfatt!^°nT''^,""'l™''y"'*«' '''»'«"«•  The  Day  be- 
some  m-frftrLr^  a  Chief  and  three  others,  and  wounded 
athfnrr„  '  ^.^"^Z^^y  "-^ntuP  with  our  Sloop,  and  battered  their 
Cabms  m  such  a  Manner  that  they  are  gla.1  to  keep  farthei  off '' 


HE  SUMMONS  THE  GARRISON. 


183 


with  burning  tow,  upon  the  roofs  of  the  houses ;  but 
cisterns  and   tanks  of  water  were  everywhere  provided 
against  such  an  emergency,  and  these  attempts  proved 
abortive.    The  little  church,  which  stood  near  the  palisade, 
was  particularly  exposed,  and  would  probably  have  been 
set  on  fire,  had  not  the  priest  of  the  settlement  threatened 
Pontiac  with  the  vengeance  of  the  Great  Spirit,  should  he 
be  guilty  of  such  sacrilege.     Pontiac,  who  was  filled  with 
eagerness  to  get  possession  of  the  garrison,  neglected  no  ex- 
pedient that  his  savage  tactics  could  supply.  He  even  went 
farther,  and  begged  the  French  inhabitants  to  teach  him 
the  European  method  of  attacking  a  fortified  place  by 
regular  approaches ;  but  the  rude  Canadians  knew  as  little 
of  the  matter  as  he  ;  or  if,  by  chance,  a  few  were  better  in- 
formed,  they  wisely  preferred  to  conceal  their  knowledge. 
Soon  after  the  first  attack,  the  Ottawa  chief  had  sent  in  to 
Gladwyn  a  summons  to  surrender,  assuring  him  that  if  the 
place  were  at  once  given  up,  he  might  embark  on  board 
the  vessels,  with  all  his  men  ;  but  that,  if  he  persisted  in 
his  defence,  he  would  treat  him  as  Indians  treat  each 
other ;  that  is,  he  would  burn  him  alive.     To  this  Gladwyn 
made  answer  that  he  cared  nothing  for  his  threats.     The 
attacks  were  now  renewed  with  increased  activity,  and  - 
the  assailants  were  soon  after  inspire  a  with  fresh  ardor  by 
the  arrival  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  Ojibwa  warriors  from 
Grand  River.    Every  man  in  the  fort,  officers,  soldiers, 
traders,  and  engages,  now  slept  upon  the  ramparts ;  even 
in  stormy  weather,  none  were  allowed  to  withdraw  to 
their  quarters ;  yet  a  spirit  of  confidence  and  cheerful- 
ness still  prevailed  among  the  weary  garrison. 

Meanwhile,  great  efforts  were  made  to  procure  a  supply 
of  provisions.  Every  house  was  examined,  and  all  that 
could  serve  for  food,  even  grease  and  tallow,  was  collected 
and  placed  in  the  public  storehouse,  compensation  having 
first  been  made  to  the  owners.  Notwithstanding  these 
precautions,  Detroit  must  have  been  abandoned  or  des- 
troyed, but  for  the  assistance  of  a  few  friendly  Canadians, 
and  especially  of  M.  Baby,  a  prominent  habitant,  who  lived 


IW 


I :    k 


1^ 


yi^ 


184 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


on  the  oppOHite  side  of  the  river,  and  provided  the  garrison 
with  cattle,  hogs,  and  other  supplies.  These,  under  cover 
of  night,  were  carried  from  his  farm  to  the  fort  in  boats, 
the  Indians  long  remaining  ignorant  of  what  was  going 
forward.* 

They,  on  their  part,  began  to  suffer  from  hunger. 
Thinking  to  luive  taken  Detroit  at  a  single  stroke,  they 
had  neglected,  with  their  usual  improvidence,  to  provide 
against  the  exigencies  of  a  siege;  and  now,  in  small 
parties,  they  would  visit  the  (\inadian  families  along  the 
river  shore,  passing  from  house  to  house,  demanding 
provisions,  and  threatening  violence  in  case  of  refusal. 
This  was  the  more  annoying,  since  the  food  thus  obtained 
was  wasted  with  characteristic  recklessness.  Unable  to 
endure  it  longer,  the  Canadians  appointed  a  deputation  of 
fifteen  of  the  eldest  among  them  to  wait  upon  Pontiac, 
and  complain  oi  his  followers'  conduct.  The  meeting  took 
place  at  a  Canadian  house,  probably  that  of  M.  Meloche, 
where  the  great  chief  had  made  his  headquarters,  and 
where  the  prisoners,  Campbell  and  M'Dougal,  were  con- 
fined. 

When  Pontiac  saw  the  deputation  approaching  along 

*  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter— Major  Gladwyn  to  Sir  J. 
Amherst. 

•'  Detroit,  July  8th,  1763. 

"  Since  the  Commencement  of  this  Extraordinary  Affair,  I  have 
been  Informed,  that  many  of  the  Inhabitants  of  tliis  Place,  sec- 
onded by  some  French  Traders  from  Montreal,  have  made  the 
Indians  Believe  that  a  French  Army  &  Fleet  were  in  the  River 
St.  Lawrence,  and  that  Another  Army  would  come  from 
the  lUinoi:. ;  And  that  when  I  Published  the  cessation  of  Arms, 
they  said  it  was  a  mere  Invention  of  Mine,  purposely  Calculated 
to  keep  the  Indians  Quiet,  as  We  were  Affraid  of  them  ;  but  they 
were  not  such  Fools  as  to  Believe  me  ;  Which,  with  a  thousand 
other  Lies,  calculated  to  Stir  up  Mischief,  have  Induced  the 
Indians  to  take  up  Arms  ;  And  1  dare  say  it  will  Appear  ere 
long,  that  One  Half  of  the  Settlement  merit  a  Gibbet,  and  the 
Other  Half  ought  to  be  Decimated  ;  Nevertheless,  there  is  some 
Honest  Men  among  them,  to  whom  I  am  Infinitely  Obliged  ;  I 
mean.  Sir,  Monsieur  Navarre,  the  two  Babys,  &  my  Interpreters, 
St.  Martin  &  La  Bute," 


HIS  SPEECH  TO  THE  FRENCH. 


186 


the  river  road,  he  was  seized  with  an  exceeding  eagerness 
to  know  the  purpose  of  their  visit ;  for  having  long  desired 
to  gain  the  ('anadians  as  allies  against  the   Engliah,  and 
niiide  several  advances  to  that  jffect,  he  hoped  that  their 
])iesent  errand  might  relate  to  the  object  next  his  heart. 
So  strong  was  his  curiosity,  that,  forgetting  the  ordintlry 
rule  of  Indian  dignity«tuid  decorum,  he  asked  the  Ijusiness 
on   which  they  had  come  before  they   themselves  had 
communicated  it.      The    Canadians   replied,   that    they 
wished  the  chiefs  to  be  convened,  for  they  were  about 
to  speak  upon  a  matter  of  much   importance.     Pontiac 
instantly  despatched  messengers  to  the  different  camps 
tuul  villages.     The  chiefs,  soon  arriving  at  his  sunimons, 
entered  the  apartment,  where  they  sat  down  upon  the 
floor,  having  first  gone  through  the  necessary   formality 
of  shaking  hands  with  the  Canadian  deputies.     After  a 
suitable  pause,  the  eldest  of  the  French  rose,  and  heavily 
complained  of  the  outrages  which  they  had  comnatted. 
"You  pretend,"  he  said,  "to  be  friends  of  the  French,  and 
yet  you  plunder  us  of  our  hogs  and  cattle,  you  trample 
upon  our  fields  of  young  corn,  and  when  you  enter  our 
houses,  you  enter  with  tomahawL  raised.     When  your 
French  father  comes  from  Montreal  with  his  great  army, 
he  will  hear  of  what  you  have  done,  and,  instead  of  shak- 
ing hands  with  you  as  brethren,  he  will  punish  you  as 
enemies." 

Pontiac  sat  with  his  eyes  riveted  upon  the  ground,  listen- 
ing to  every  word  that  was  spoken.  When  the  speaker 
had  concluded,  he  returned  the  following  answer ; — 

"  Brothers : 

"  We  have  never  wished  to  do  you  harm,  nor  allow  any 
to  be  done  you ;  but  among  us  there  are  many  young  men 
who,  though  strictly  watched,  find  opportunities  of  mis- 
chief. It  is  not  to  revenge  myself  alone  that  I  make  war 
on  the  English.  It  is  to  revenge  you,  my  brothers. 
When  the  English  insulted  us,  they  insulted  you  also. 
I  know  that  they  have  taken  away  your  arms,  and  made 
you  sign  a  paper  which  they  have  sent  home  to  their 


186 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


1 


country.  Therefore  you  are  left  defenceless ;  and  I  mean 
now  to  revenge  your  cause  and  my  own  together.  I  meun 
to  destroy  the  Englisli,  and  leave  not  one  upon  our  lands. 
You  do  not  know  the  r*iasona  from  which  I  act.  I  have 
told  you  those  only  which  concern  yourselves ;  hut  you 
will  learn  all  in  time.  You  will  cease  then  to  think  me  a 
fool.  I  know,  my  brothers,  that  there  are  many  among  you 
who  take  part  with  the  English.  I  am  sorry  for  it,  for  their 
own  sakes ;  for  when  our  father  arrives,  I  shall  point  them 
out  to  him,  and  they  will  see  whether  they  or  I  have  most 
reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  part  we  have  acted- 

« I  do  not  doubt,  my  brothers,  that  this  war  is  very 
troublesome  to  you,  for  our  warriors  are  continually  pass- 
ing and  repassing  through  your  settlement.  I  am  so-ry 
for  it.  Do  not  think  that  I  approve  of  the  damage  that  is 
done  by  them ;  and,  as  a  proof  of  this,  remember  the  war 
with  the  Foxeg,  and  the  part  which  I  took  in  it.  It  is 
now  seventeen  yea^rs  fince  the,  O  jib  was  of  Michimillimack- 
inac  combined  with  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  came  down  to  de- 
stroy you.  Who  then  defended  you  ?  Was  it  not  I  and  my 
young  men  ?  Mickinac,  great  chief  of  all  these  nations,  said 
in  council  that  he  would  carry  to  his  village  the  head  of 
your  commandant — that  he  would  eat  his  heart  and  drink 
his  blood.  Did  I  not  take  your  part  ?  Did  I  not  go  to  his 
camp,  and  say  to  him  that  if  he  wished  to  kill  the  Frencii, 
he  must  first  kill  me  and  my  warriors  ?  Did  I  not  assist  you 
in  routing  them  and  driving  them  away  ?  *    And  now  you 

*  The  a.inals  of  these  remote  and  gloomy  regions  are  involved 
in  such  obscurity  tlut  it  is  hard  to  discover  the  precise  cliaracter 
of  the  events  to  which  Pontiac  here  lefers.  The  only  allusion  to 
them,  vvrhich  the  writer  has  met  with,  is  the  following,  inscribed 
on  a  tattered  scrap  of  soiled  paper,  found  among  the  M'Dougal 
manuscripts: — 

"  Five  miles  below  the  mouth  of  Wolf  River  is  the  Great  Death 
Ground.  Tliis  took  its  name  from  the  circumstance  that  some 
years  before  tha  Old  French  War,  a  great  battle  was  fought  be- 
tween the  French  troops,  assisted  by  the  Menomonies  and  Otta- 
vjras  on  the  one  side,  and  the  Sac  and  Fox  Indians  on  the  other. 
The  Sacs  and  Foxes  were  nearly  all  cut  off  ;  and  this  proved 
the  cause  of  their  eventual  expulsion  from  that  country." 


HIS  SPEECH  TO  THE  FRENCH. 


187 


think  that  I  wv.uld  turn  my  arms  against  you  !  No,  my 
brothers;  I  am  the  same  French  Pontiac  who  assisted 
you  seventeen  years  ago.  I  am  a  Frenchman,  and  I  wish 
to  die  a  Frenchman  ;  and  I  now  repeat  to  you  that  you 
and  I  are  one— that  it  is  for  both  our  interests  that  I 
should  be  avenged.  Let  me  alone.  I  do  not  ask  you  for 
aid,  for  it  is  not  in  your  power  to  give  it.  I  only  ask  pro- 
visions for  myself  and  men.  Yet,  if  you  are  inclined  to 
assist  me,  I  shall  not  vefuse  you.  It  v/ould  please  me, 
and  you  yourselves  would  be  sooner  rid  of  your  troubles ; 
for  I  promise  you,  that  as  soon  as  the  English  are  driven 
out,  we  will  go  back  to  our  villages,  and  there  await  the 
arrival  of  our  French  father.  You  have  heard  what  ^ 
have  to  say ;  remain  at  peaci ,  and  I  will  watch  that  no 
harm  shall  be  done  to  you,  either  by  my  men  or  by  Oie 
other  Indians." 

This  speech  is  reported  by  a  writer  whose  chief  charac- 
teristic is  the  scrupulous  accuracy  with  which  he  haa 
chronicled  minute  details  without  interest  or  importance, 
lie  neglects,  moreover,  no  opportunity  of  casting  igno- 
miny and  contempt  upon  the  name  of  Pontiac.  His  mind 
is  of  so  dull  and  commonplace  an  order  as  to  exclude  the 
supposition  that  he  himself  is  author  of  the  words  which 
he  ascribes  to  the  Ottawa  chief,  and  the  speech  may  prob- 
ably be  taken  as  a  literal  translation  of  the  original. 

As  soon  as  the  council  broke  up,  Pontiac  took  measures 
for  bringing  the  disorders  complained  of  to  a  close,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  he  prDvided  sustenance  for  his  warriors : 
and,  in  doing  this,  he  displayed  a  policy  and  forecast 
scarcely  paralleled  in  the  history  of  his  race.  He  first  for- 
bade the  commission  of  farther  outrage.  He  next  visited 
in  turn  the  families  of  the  Canadians,  and,  inspecting  the 
property  belonging  to  them,  he  assigned  to  each  the  share 
of  provisions  which  it  must  furnish  for  the  support  of 
the  Indians.  The  contributions  thus  levied  were  all  col- 
lected at  the  house  of  Meloche,  near  Parent's  Creek, 
whence  they  were  regularly  issued,  as  the  exigence  re- 
quired, to  the  savages  of  the  different  camps.    As  the  uhar- 


m 


r 


188 


THK  OONHPlllAOY  OF  PONTLVC. 


tuttor  and  InihltH  of  an  Indian  bntill  qualify  him  toaottlu) 
part  of  ooinniiNHary,  I'ontia(5  In  1  his  nrnttm' availed  him- 
8(^1  f  of  KriMU'h  aMHiNl4i,n(M\ 

On  tho  rivor  bank,  not  far  from  Uo  houHo  of  Mclocho, 
llvHMl  an  old('anadian,  namiMl  Qnilh'ricz,  a  nian  of  (»x(M'(wI- 
\un  vanity  and  8olf-('on('(>i(^  and  noted  in  tlu<  Hcttlcmcnt 
for  tho  Kiiyoty  of  his  attiro.     Ilo   woro  moccaNonH  of  tho 
moHt  clahorali^  |nitt(>rn,nn<l  a  hunIi  plentifully  j^arniHhcd 
with  hnulH  and  \\.im|)uin.     Il(^  was  conlinualiy  internuMl- 
<llinj^  in  tht^alVairs  of  thi^  Indians,  being  anxious  to  bero- 
garded  as  (lu^  leadiM'  or  din<etor  lunong  th(>m.     Of  this  man 
IV»n(\ao  twidently  nutdo  a  tool,  (employing  him,  together 
witli  sevt>ral  otluMs,  U\  diseharg(»,  beneath  his  ey(«,  the 
duties  of  hin  uowl  eommissariat.     Anxious  to  avoid  of. 
fending  tne  Kr(»neh,  yet  unabh^  (o  mak(»  compensation  for 
the  provi.Mons  h(>  had  exacted,  Pontiae  had  recourse  to  a 
nMuarkable   expedit^nt,   sr.ggest(»d,   wo   doubt,   by  one  of 
these  Kurop«»an  assistants.     He  issued  t>romissory  notes, 
drawn  upon  bireli  bark,  and  signed  with  the  figure  of  an' 
ott*M\  the  tottMu  to  which  he  belongcMl  ;  and  we  are  told 
by  a  trustworthy  ai'tlu>rity,  that  tlu>y  were  all  faithfully 
redtHMUt^d.     In  (Ins,  as  in  several  other  instances,  he  ex- 
hibits an  opemiess  of  mind  and  a  power  ..f  adaptation  not 
a  little  extraordinary  among  a  pt^opU*  whose  intelhu't  will 
mivly  leave  thenarrt>w  and  deeply-eut  channels  in  which 
it  has  run  for  ages,  who  reject   instruction,  and  adher(> 
with  rigid  tenacity  to  ancient  ideas  and  usages.     l»ontiac 
always  exhibiti d  an  cagtu*  desire  for  knowledge,     llogers 
represents  him  as  earnest  to  learn  the  military  art  as 
practised  among  Kuroi>ea!is,  an<l  as  intpiiring  curiously 
into  the  mo('»e  of  making  cloth,  knives,  and  the  other 
articles  of  Indian  trade.     Of  his  keen  and  subtle  genius 
wo  liavo  tb.e  following  singular  testimony  from  the  pen 
of  Cfoneral  Oage  :  "From  a  i>aragraph  of  k.  D'Abbadie's 
lettor,  thon>  is  muson  to  judgt>  of  Pontiac,  not  only  as  a 
srt\'5\gt^  p(\ssesse«I  of  the  most  refined  cunning  and  treachery 
natural  to  the  Indians,  but  as  a  person  of  extrnordinarv 
ttbiiities.     He  says  that  he  keeps  two  seereturies,  one  to 


TRAITS  OF  Ilia  CHARACTER. 


189 


wrlUi  for  hlin,  und  Uw,  otluir  to  hmkI  tluj  l(;tt(5rH  he  re- 
(;(UV(!H,  and  \w  inanagcH  tlunn  ho  as  to  k(!(;p  each  of  them 
ignorant  of  what  in  transacti'd  by  the  oth(;r."  * 

Major  llog(U'H,  a  man  familiar  with  the  IndianH,  and  an 
ac.tiU?  judges  of  mankind,  Hpeaks  in  the  highewt  terniH  of 
I'ontiaci'H  eharaettu' and  taUintw.  "  Ihi  putH  cm,"  lie  wayH, 
"an  air  of  majesty  and  princuily  grandeur,  and  is  greatly 
honored  iind  reven^d  by  his  HUl)je(dH." 

In  the  pr((S(!nt  instanec*,  few  durHt  infringe  the  com- 
mand he  had  given,  that  tlui  i)roperty  of  the  Canadians 
should  Ih5  respected ;  indcMul,  it  is  said  that  none  of  his 
followers  would  (;ross  tlui  cultivated  fields,  but  always 
I'oilowed  tlu^  beaten  paths ;  in  such  awo  did  they  stand 
of  his  disi)leasure. 

Pontiac's  i)osition  was  very  different  from  that  of  an 
ordinary  military  header.  Wlitiu  we  remember  that  his 
authority,  little  sanctioncMl  by  law  or  usage,  was  derived 
chiefly  from  the  force  of  his  own  individual  mind,  and 
that  it  was  exercisc^d  over  a  peoi)le  singularly  impatient 
of  restraint,  we  may  blotter  appreciate  th(5  comnjr*nding 
(iuergy  that  couhl  hold  liontrol  over  spirits  so  intractable. 

The  flaring  faults  of  Pontiac's  character  have  already 
appeared  too  (ilinirly.  He  was  artful  and  treacherous, 
bold,  tierce,  ambitious,  and  revengeful ;  yet  the  following 
anecdotes  will  (evince  that  noble  and  generous  thought 


f'     H    ! 


*  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter— William  Smith,  Jr.,  to . 

"  New  York,  22d  Nov.  1763. 
"  'Tis  an  old  aayinj?  that  the  Devil  is  easier  raised  than  laid. 
Sir  Jeffrey  lias  found  it  so,  with  these  Indian  Demons.  They 
have  cut  his  little  Army  to  Pieces,  &  almost  if  not  entirely  ob- 
structed the  Communication  to  the  Detroite,  where  the  Enemy 
are  grown  very  numerous  ;  and  from  whence  I  fancy  you'll  soon 
hear,  if  any  survive  to  rslate  them,  very  tragical  Accounts.  The 
Besiegers  are  led  on  by  an  enterprising  Fellow  called  Pondiac. 
He  is  a  Genius,  for  lie  possesses  great  Bravery,  Art,  &  Oratory, 
&  has  had  the  Address  to  get  himself  not  only  at  the  Head  of 
his  Couquerors,  but  eieoled  Generalissimo  of  all  the  confederate 
Forces  now  acting  against  us — Perhaps  he  may  deserve  to  be 
called  the  Mithridates  of  the  West." 


t?3ig1 


•1-- 


.  r 


1!)() 


THE  CONSPlltACY  Of  l'()NTIA(^ 


w,VH  no  (.tratiRor  t,.  tlio  HavuR.,  hm-.,  .,f  M,is  ,|,„.k  f,„,.,t 
tm„.„I.V.    So,,..,  .i,u.,  „ru..tlm  ,„„.i„.l  .,f  which  w,,      V, 

H.m  NimakiUK,  K,.„.rM  .•„,,, «  |,.„,„i,,  „;,,,,  „  „,.^^,^J 

nm.t  ,.l  t,r,„,,,s,  „„,l,  ,m  \m,]\„g,  «o„i  a  h„Ul„  „f  i,,,u„iv 
by  a  fnon.l  y  |,„|i,u,,  ,„  ,i  |„-...s,.i,|,  (,„  |V,„|.i,i,,  'Hk,  I,, 
(liatm  had  alway*.  Ikvii  wiM|.i.n„ii»  (liat  tho  Ki,„li.sh  „„,,u,; 

I-m'sua. .,  hi,„    that,  i|„.  ,,,a,„,v    ,vas  .1>„„k..,|       "  ,   ia„ 
.    u^Uj.,.,,,  ,,.  what,  ll„,v  ™i,l.  an,l.  as  s,„„.  as  ij,.y  ha     ,    ' 

iranl-   it,  sayii.K  (hal,  tho  „,a„  wh„s„  lilV,  h«  had  sawd 
h.«l  no  powrr  to  kdl  hi,,,.     11,,  ,,,f.„.,,Ml  to hi.s  havi  ,«  m 

Iho  8t«iy  ii,ay  wivo  as  a  (oi„il,.,.|,a,.t  U,  tl,„  widl-kuowh 
.vm..d.,U.  of  A..;x,md..,.  tho  ,i,.,,,t,u,d  his  physS,     """ 
I  oi,tl:.o  had  l«..^,  a„  old  f,i,.„,|  of  Hahy  ;  /lod  o„c  ovon- 
•«,  ..t  ,m  oar  y  ,„.,.,od  of  (ho  si..K,.,  )„.  ,,,„,,,,„,  |,i,  |„„„,^ 
m  d   soatm„  h.>„soir  hy  tho  Ihv,  hK.kod   fo,-  soo.o   ti,„. 
8t,.,  d,  y  at  tho  .m,h,.|s.    At  loi,Ktl,,  ,aisi.,K his  l,„a,l,  ho sai.l 
u  ruui  hoa,;,   that  (ho  Ko.dish  ha,l  otlo,,.!  tho  CV>  u  ia 

clarod  that  tho  .,to,y  was  falso,  a„d  pn.tostod  that  he 
w.mld  novo.-  botiay  him.  I'o„tiao  fo,.  a  ,„o,„ont  koooK 
studied  h,s  features.  "  My  |„„(hor  has siu.keii  the  truth  " 
l-'»<...;and   I   will  show  that  1   Ivliovo  hi,,,."     He  v- 

flapped  himselt  1,1  his  l.laukel,  an.l  lay  ,low>i  upon  a 
lH.m.li  when*  ho  slept  i.i  full  ..onH.le,„.e  till  „,o>„inB 
Another  i.aecHtotn  fro,,,   the  same  source,  will  exliibit 

lowers.     A  few  .vouuk  W,yandots  were  in  the  habit  of 
coming,  mght  aftor  niKht,  to  the  house  of  Kahy,  to  ste 
pTtiT  "',"'•■  '^"'"""**'-  -"'Plained  of  the  tlu,f    to 
taom^iTH^'Tf  "'■'  "■■'"*"■"""•     "'''"8  »'  *at  time 

■  ^^-  ^"■^  rtOBiauiiicu  or  nis  irieliti    and 

arriving  about  nightfiUl  at  the  house,  walked  to  and  ^rll 


TRAITS  OF  HIS  CHARACTER. 


191 


lunouR  t!io  baniH  and  eii(;l()HUreH.  At  a  laU5  hour,  he  (Uh- 
(iii^ruiHluMl  tli(5  dark  forms  of  the  phuidenuH  Htoaling 
Uiiough  the  gloom.  «(io  bacik  to  your  village,  you 
VVyaiulot  dogH,"  Haid  the  Ottawa  (5hi<;f;  "if  you  tread 
aK^'iin  on  thiw  man'M  land,  you  hIuiII  di(;."  Th<;y  Hlunk 
buck  abaHhed ;  and  from  that  time  forward,  the  (Canadian's 
|,i(.p(U"ty  was  safe.  The  Ottawas  had  no  political  eonnec- 
tioit  with  the  Wyandots,  who  si)eak  a  language  radically 
(lislin(!t.  Over  them  h(^  could  claim  no  hjgitimate  aii- 
tliority ;  y(;t  Km  [)ow(U'ful  spirit  forced  respect  and  obedi- 
ence from  all  who  approached  him. 


\ 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

BOUT  OP  cnYLEB's  BETACHME.T.-p.te  O.  THE  E0KE8T 

GARRISONS. 

mained  ignorant  of  their  danger     Tnf  J^  """^^  ""^^ 

strong  detaehnfe,  t  had  Z^  ^  uTT/.t  'P""^'  * 
supply  of  provisions  and  amn,So"n'.  '  h  "  use  Tn  " 
troit  and  the  oth^r  western  posts.    The  boat  oTthi 
voy  were  now  pursuing  thei>  eour  J  nL„    !t  °"' 

shore  of  Lake  Ere  •  ind  ri„H       ?       ^  *'"''  northern 

their  ^,pr:x::LC^t^^7iT^i'^'''^  f 

which  every  day  increased.  '^  ""   ^"'"^t^ 

Day  after  day  passed  on,  and  the  red  nrn=o  „f  c<.  ^ 
still  floated  above  Detroit,     tL  i!  f  °*  ^'-  ^^"''^ 

of  the  Indians  hid  never\bld  .'^:„T'^<^1,^''t«MuIness 
who  showed  his  head  above  the  '  f  T"  *"  *'^«  ^°""«' 
person  be  .e  a  loophot  St^  nj^l^  hf.'d'  T  'n^''''  '^'^ 
French  assistance,  Pontiaol.?d^=     .        ""'""  ''"P"  «' 

Neyon,  commandant  at  fte  lU  Ire  .rTn"^  *°  *'• 
that  a  force  of  regular  troons  S;  f '™"f  f  requesting 

ance;  and  Gladwyron  h.Tli,?'t?'  "T^  ^  ^''  ''''''^ 

canoes  suddenly  darted  out  upon  her  from  th^  !„,  il 

Z^dT-  '"  '••^  P^""  "* ^'"^  foimos?'  het dShTd 
S  r.l  *^f  <P!:r.:i!.*''l^»  '^'-Pbe".  with  the  didlv 
,_-,,„,..^^„.  ,„.„.i,usmg  uim  as  a  screen  between  them"- 


RELIEF  AT  HAND. 


193 


selves  and  the  fire  of  the  English.  But  the  brave  old 
man  called  out  to  the  crew  to  do  their  duty,  without  re- 
gard to  him.  Happily,  at  that  moment  a  fresh  breeze 
sprang  up ;  the  flapping  sails  stretched  to  the  wind,  and 
the  schooner  bore  prosperously  on  her  course  towards 
Niagara,  leaving  the  savage  flotilla  far  behind. 

The  fort,  or  rather  town,  of  Detroit  had,  by  this  time, 
lost  its  wonted  vivacity  and  life.  Its  narrow  streets  were 
gloomy  and  silent.  Here  and  there  strolled  a  Canadian, 
in  red  cap  and  gaudy  sash ;  the  weary  sentinel  walked  to 
and  fro  before  the  quarters  of  the  commandant ;  an  officer, 
perhaps,  passed  along  with  rapid  step  and  anxious  face  ; 
or  an  Indian  girl,  the  mate  of  some  soldier  or  trader, 
moved  silently  by,  in  her  finery  of  beads  and  vermilion. 
Such  an  aspect  as  this  the  town  must  have  presented  on 
the  morning  of  the  thirtieth  of  May,  when,  at  about  nine 
o'clock,  the  voice  of  the  sentinel  sounded  from  the  south- 
east bastion,  and  loud  exclamations,  in  the  direction  of  the 
river,  roused  Detroit  from  its  lethargy.  Instantly  the 
pin  e  was  astir.  Soldiers,  traders,  and  hahitans^  hurrying 
through  the  wator  gate,  thronged  the  canoe  wharf  and  the 
narrow  strand  without.  The  half- wild  coureurs  des  bois, 
the  tall  and  sinewy  provincials,  and  the  stately  British 
soldiers,  stood  crowded  together,  their  uniforms  soiled 
and  worn,  and  their  faces  haggard  with  unremitted 
watching.  Yet  all  alike  wore  an  animated  and  joyous 
look.  The  long-expected  convoy  was  full  in  sight.  On 
the  farther  side  of  the  river,  at  some  distance  below  the 
fort,  a  line  of  boats  was  rounding  the  woody  projections, 
then  called  Montreal  Point,  their  oars  flashing  in  the  sun, 
and  the  red  flag  of  England  flying  from  the  stern  of  the 
foremost.  The  toils  and  dangers  of  the  garrison  were 
drawing  to  an  end.  With  one  accord,  they  broke  into 
three  hearty  cheers,  again  and  again  repeated,  while  a 
cannon,  glancing  from  the  bastion,  sent  its  loud  voice  of 
defiance  to  the  enemv,  and  welcome  to  aDDroachiner 
friends.  But  suddenly  every  cheek  grew  pale  with  horror. 
Dark  naked  figures  were  seen  rising,  with  wild  gesture, 
'3 


ti 


1  : 


m 
id 


m 


194 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


m  the  boats,  while,  in  place  of  the  answering  salute,  the 
distant  yell  of  the  war-whoop  fell  faintly  on  their  ears 
The  convoy  was  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The  boats 
had  all  been  taken,  and  the  troops  of  the  detachment  slain 
or  made  captTve.  Officers  and  men  stood  gazing  in  mourn- 
ful  silence,  when  an  incident  occurred  which  caused  them 
to  forget  the  general  calamity  in  the  absorbing  interest 
of  the  moment. 

Leaving  the  disappointed  garrison,  we  will  pass  over 
to  the  principal  victims  of  this  deplorable  misfortune 
In  each  of  the  boats,  of  which  there  were  eighteen,  two 
or  nore    of  the   captured    soldiers,   deprived    of  their 
weapons,  were  compelled  to  act  as  rowers,  guarded  by 
several  armed  savages,  while  many  other  Indians,  for  the 
sake  of  farther   security,  followed  the   boats  along  the 
shore.    In  the  fqremost,  as  it  happened,  there  were  four 
soldiers  and  only  three  Indians.     The  larger  of  the  two 
vessels  still  lay  anchored  in  the  stream,  about  a  bow-shot 
from  the  fort,  while  her  companion,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
gone  down  to  Niagara  to  hasten  up  this  very  reenf orcement. 
As  the  boat  came  opposite  this  vessel,  the  soldier  who 
acted  as  steersman  conceived  a  daring  plan  of  escape. 
The  principal  Indian  sat  immediately  in  front  of  another 
of  the  soldiers.     The  steersman  called,  in  English,  to  his 
comrade  to  seize  the  savage  and  throw  him  overboard. 
The  man  answered  that  he  was  not  strong  enough ;  on 
which  the  steersman  directed  him  to  change  places  with 
him,  as  if  fatigued  with  rowing,  a  movement  which  would 
excite  no  suspicion  on  the  part  of  their  guard.    As  the 
bold  soldier  stepped  forward,  as  if  to  take  his  companion's 
oar,  he  suddenly  seized  the  Indian  by  the  hair,  and  grip- 
ing with  the  other  hand  the  girdle  at  his  waist,  lifted 
him  by  main  force,  and  flung  him  into  the  river.     The 
boat  rocked  till  the  water  surged  over  her  gunwale.     The 
Indian  held  fast  to  his  enemy's  clothes,  and,  drawing  him- 
self upward  as  he  trailed  alongside,  stabbed  him  again 
and  agahi  with  his  knife,  and  then   dragged  him  over- 
board.   Both  went  down  the  swift  current^  rising  and 


ESCAPE  OP  PRISONERS. 


195 


sinking ;  and,  as  some  relate,  perished,  grappled  in  each 
other's  arms.*  The  two  remaining  Indians  leaped  out  of 
the  boat.  The  prisoners  turned,  and  pulled  for  the  dis- 
tant vessel,  shouting  aloud  for  aid.  The  Indians  on  shore 
opened  a  heavy  fire  upon  them,  and  many  canoes  paddled 
swiftly  in  pursuit.  The  men  strained  with  desperate 
strength.  A  fate  inexpressibly  horrible  was  the  alter- 
native. The  bullets  hissed  thickly  around  their  heads ; 
one  of  them  was  soon  wounded,  and  the  light  birch  canoes 
gained  on  them  with  fearful  rapidity.  Escape  seemed 
hopeless,  when  the  report  of  a  cannon  burst  from  the  side 
of  the  vessels.  The  ball  flew  close  past  the  boat,  beating 
the  water  in  a  line  of  foam,  and  narrowly  missing  the 
foremost  canoe.  At  this,  the  pursuers  drew  back  in  dis- 
may ;  and  the  Indians  on  shore,  being  farther  saluted  by 
a  second  shot,  ceased  firing,  and  scattered  among  the 
])ushes.  The  prisoners  soon  reached  the  vessel,  where 
they  were  greeted  as  men  snatched  from  the  jaws  of 
fate ;  "  a  living  monument,"  writes  an  officer  of  the  garri- 
son, "  that  Fortune  favors  the  brave." 

They  related  many  particulars  of  the  catastrophe  which 
had  befallen  them  and  their  companions.  Lieutenant 
Cuyler  had  left  Fort  Niagara  as  early  as  the  thirteenth  of 
May,  and  embarked  from  Fort  Schlosser,  just  above  the 
falls,  with  ninety- six  men  and  a  plentiful  supply'  of  pro- 
vision and  ammunition.  Day  after  day  he  had  coasted 
along  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  Erie,  and  had  seen  nei- 
ther friend  nor  foe  amid  those  lonely  forests  and  waters, 
when,  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  the  month,  he  landed  at 
Point  Pelee,  not  far  from  the  mouth  of  the  River  Detroit. 
The  boats  were  drawn  on  the  beach,  and  the  party  pre- 
pared to  encamp.  A  man  and  a  boy  went  to  gather  fire- 
wood at  a  short  distance  from  the  spot,  when  an  Indian 
leaped  out  of  the  woods,  seized  the  boy  by  the  hair,  and 
tomahawked  him.  The  man  ran  into  camp  with  the  alarm. 
Cuvler  immediatelv  formed,  his  soldiers  into  a  semicircle 

*  Another  witness,  Gouin,  affirms  that  the  Indian  freed  him- 
self from  the  dying  grasp  of  the  soldier,  and  swam  ashore. 


,  ,  ; 


m 


'  i 


-5  si 


\ 


HiitI 


til! 


i  ^ 


196 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


before  the  boats.    He  had  scarcely  done  so  when  the 
enemy  opened  their  fire/    For  an  instant,  there  was  a  hot 
blaze  of  musketry  on  both  sides;  then  the  Indians  broke 
out  of  the  woods  in  a  body,  and  rushed  fiercely  upon  the 
centre  of  the  line,  which  gave  way  in  every  part ;  the 
men  flinging  down  their  guns,  running  in  a  blind  panic  to 
the  boats,  and  struggling  with  ill-directed  efforts  to  shove 
them  into  the  water.     Five  were  set  afloat,  and  pushed  off 
from  the  shore,  crowded  with  the  terrified  soldiers.     Cuy- 
ler,  seeing  himself,  as  he  says,  deserted  by  his  men,  waded 
up  to  his  neck  in  the  lake,  and  climbed  into  one  of  the 
retreating  boats.     The  Indians,  on  their  part,  pushing  two 
more  afloat,  went  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives,  three  boat 
loads  of  whom  allowed  themselves  to  be  recaptured  with- 
out resistance ;  but  the  remaining  two,  in  one  of  which 
was  Cuyler  himself,  made  their  escape.*     They  rowed  all 
night,  and  landed  in  the  morning  upon  a  small   island 
Between  tnirty  and  forty  men,  some  of  whom  were  wound- 
ed, were  crowded  in  these  two  boats ;  the  rest,  about  sixty 
m  number,  being  killed  or  taken.    Cuyler  now  make  for 
Sandusky,  which,  on  his  arrival,  he  found  burnt  to  the 
ground.    Immediately  leaving  the  spot,  he  rowed  along 
the  south  shore  to  Presqu'Isle,  from  whence  he  proceeded 
to  Niagara,  and  reported  his  loss  to  Major  Wilkins,  the 
commanding  officer,  f 

*  '*  Being  abandoned  by  my  men,  I  was  Forced  to  Retreat  in 
the  best  manner  I  could.  I  was  left  with  6  men  on  the  Beech 
Endeavormg  to  get  off  a  Boat,  which  not  being  able  to  Effect' 
was  obliged  to  Run  up  to  my  Neck,  in  the  Lake,  to  get  to  a  Boat 
that  had  pushed  off,  without  my  Knowledge.— When  I  was  in 
the  Lake  I  saw  Five  Boats  manned,  and  the  Indians  having 
manned  two  Boats,  pursued  and  Brought  back  Three  of  the  Five 
keepmg  a  continual  Fire  from  off  the  Shore,  and  from  the  two 
Boats  that  followed  us,  above  a  Mile  on  the  Lake ;  the  Wind 
springing  up  fair  ;  I  and  the  other  Remaining  Boat  Hoisted  sail 
and  Escaped."— Cuyler's  Report,  MS. 

t  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter-Major  Wilkins  to  Sir  J.  Amberst. 
,,r    4.      ^  -       "Niagara.  6th  June,  17fi.S. 

Just  as  I  was  sending  off  my  Letter  of  Yesterday,  Lieutenant 
Cuyler,  of  the  Queen's  Rangers,  Arrived  from  his  Intended  Voyage 


INDIAN  DEBAUCH. 


197 


The  actors  in  this  bold  and  well-executed  stroke  were 
the  Wyandots,  who,  for  some  days,  had  lain  in  ambush  at 
the  mouth  of  the  river,  to  intercept  trading  boats  or  par- 
ties of  troops.  Seeing  the  extreme  fright  and  confusion  of 
Cuyler's  men,  they  had  forgotten  their  usual  caution,  and 
rushed  upon  them  in  the  manner  described.  The  ammu- 
nition, provision,  and  other  articles,  taken  in  this  attack, 
formed  a  valuable  prize ;  but,  unfortunately,  there  was, 
among  the  rest,  a  great  quantity  of  whiskey.  This  the 
Indians  seized,  and  carried  to  their  respective  camps,  which, 
throughout  the  night,  presented  a  scene  of  savage  revelry 
and  riot.  The  liquor  was  poured  into  vessels  of  birch- 
bark,  or  any  thing  capable  of  containing  it ;  and  the 
Indians,  crowding  around,  scooped  it  up  in  their  cups  and 
ladles,  and  quaffed  the  raw  whiskey  like  water.  While 
some  sat  apart,  wailing  and  moaning  in  maudlin  drunken- 
ness, others  were  maddened  to  the  ferocity  of  wild  beasts. 
Dormant  jealousies  were  awakened,  old  forgotten  quarrels 
kindled  afresh,  and  had  not  the  squaws  taken  the  precau- 
tion of  hiding  all  the  weapons  they  could  find  before  the 
debauch  began,  much  blood  would,  no  doubt,  have  been 
spilt.  As  it  was,  the  savages  were  not  entirely  without 
means  of  indulging  their  drunken  rage.  Many  were 
wounded,  of  whom  two  died  in  the  morning ;  and  several 
others  had  their  noses  bitten   off — a   singular  mode   of 

to  the  Detroit.  He  has  been  very  Unfortunate,  Having  been  De- 
feated by  Indians  within  30  miles  of  the  Detroit  River  ;  I  observed 
that  he  was  Wounded  and  Weak,  and  Desired  him  to  take  the 
Surgeon's  Assistance  and  some  Rest,  and  Recollect  the  Particulars 
of  the  Affair,  and  let  me  have  them  in  Writing,  as  perhaps  I 
should  find  it  Necessary  to  Transmit  them  to  Your  Excellency, 
which  I  have  now  Done. 

"  It  is  probable  Your  Excellency  will  have  heard  of  what  has 
Happened  by  way  of  Fort  Pitt,  as  Ensign  Christie,  Commanding 
at  Presqu'Isle,  writes  me  he  has  sent  an  Express  to  Acquaint  the 
Commanding  Officer  at  that  Place,  of  Sanduskie's  being  Destroyed, 
and  of  Lieut.  Cuyler's  Defeat. 

"Some  Indians  of  the  Six  Nations  are  now  with  me.  They 
seem  very  Civil  ;  The  Interpreter  has  just  told  them  I  was  writ- 
ing to  Your  Excellency  for  P-  -^j  and  they  are  very  glad." 


'M3.i  < 


U 


:t. 


41 


198 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


*■ 


i  ii 


revenge  much  in  vogue  unon  similar  occasions,  among  the 
Indians  of  the  upper  hikes.  The  English  weie  gainers  by 
this  scene  of  riot ;  for  late  in  the  evening,  two  Indians,  in 
all  the  valor  and  vainglory  of  drunkenness,  came  running 
directly  towards  the  fort,  boasting  their  prowess  in  a  loud 
voice  ;  but  being  greeted  with  two  rifle  bullets,  they  leaped 
into  the  air  like  a  pair  of  wounded  bucks,  and  fell  dead  ou 
their  tracks. 

It  will  not  be  proper  to  pass  over  in  silence  the  fate  of 
the  unfortunate  men  taken  prisoners  in  this  affair.     After 
night  had  set  in,  several  Canadians  came  to  the  fort  brins 
mg  vague  and  awful  reports  of  the  scenes  that  had  been 
enacted  at  the  Indian  camp.     The  soldiers  gathered  round 
them,  and,  frozen  with  horror,  listened  to  the  appalling 
narrative.    A  cloud  of  deep  gloom  sank  down  upon  the 
garrison,  and  none  could  help  reflecting  how  thin  and  frail 
a  barrier  proteptod  them  from   a  similar  fato.     On   the 
following  day,  and   for  several   succeeding    days,   thev 
beheld   frightful   confirmation  of  the  rumors   they  had 
h-.ard^    Naked  corpses,  gashed  with  knives  and  scorched 
with  fire,  floated  down  on  the  pure  waters  of  the  Detroit 
whose  fish  came  up  to  nibble  at  the  clotted  blood  that 
clung  to  their  ghastly  faces.* 

th^firi^had'^;«'^h"^*^^*..*^"^*^^^  barges  might  escape  as 
ThPvI«L.ffV,  '  changed  their  plan  of  going  to  the  camp. 
i?n/to  ?1  Off  ^''  P"?,r«^«'  *'«d  them,  and  conducted  them  by 
n«ni  t  ^Jf^^'  '''"^^^'  ^"^  *^^^  «^o««ed  them  to  Pondiac's 
camp,  where  they  were  all  butchered.  As  soon  as  the  canoes 
reached  the  shore,  the  barbarians  Idnded  their  prisoners  o.L 
after  he  other,  on  the  beach.  They  made  them  strip  themsdve 
and  then  sent  arrows  into  different  parts  of  their  bodies.  These 
unfortunate  men  wished  sometimes  to  throw  themselves  on  Z 
ground  to  avoid  the  arrows  ;  but  they  were  beaten  wthst^^^^^^^  and 
forced  to  stand  up  until  they  fell  dead;  after  which  tlose  who 

ana  ate  thero  On  others  they  exercised  different  modes  of  tor 
TZl'^Tf''''^  their  flesh  with  flints,  and  piercing  them  with 
lances.     They  would  then  cut  their  feet  and  hands  off  and  lelZ 

tTJ;\^^"?l-  '"^^V  ^»-d  '^'^  they  were  dead.'  oihTrs  'Zl 
ta.,t....v.  .u  o^  ..  ,  ana  cnuaien  employed  in  burning  them  with 


FATE  OF  THE  CAPTIVES. 


199 


Late  one  afternoon,  at  about  this  period  of  the  siege, 
the  garrison  were  again  greeted  with  the  dismal  cry  of 
death,  and  a  line  of  naked  warriors  was  seen  issuing  from 
the  woods,  which,  like  a  wall  of  foliage,  rose  beyond  the 
pastures  in  rear  of  the  fort.  Each  savage  was  painted 
black,  and  each  bore  a  scalp  flutteriiig  from  the  end  of  a 
pole.  It  was  but  too  clear  that  some  new  disa.  ter  had 
befallen ;  and  in  truth,  before  nightfall,  one  La  Brosse,  a 
Canadian,  came  to  the  gate  with  the  tidings  that  Fort 
Sandusky  had  been  taken,  and  all  its  garrison  slain  or 
made  captive.  This  post  had  been  attacked  by  the  band 
of  Wyandots  living  in  its  neighborhood,  aided  by  a  de- 
tachment of  their  brethren  from  Detroit.  Among  the 
few  survivors  of  the  slaughter  was  the  commanding 
officer.  Ensign  Paully,  who  had  been  brought  prisoner  to 
Detroit,  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  solaced  on  the  passage 

a  slow  fire.  No  kind  of  torment  was  left  untried  by  these  In- 
dians. Some  of  the  bodies  were  left  on  shore  ;  others  were 
thrown  into  the  river.  Even  the  women  assisted  their  husbands 
in  torturing  their  victims.  They  slitted  them  with  their  knives, 
and  mangled  them  in  various  ways.  There  were,  however,  a  few 
whose  lives  were  saved,  being  adopted  to  serve  as  slaves." — Pon- 
tiac  MS. 

"  The  remaining  barges  proceeded  up  the  river,  and  crossed  to 
the  house  of  Mr.  Meloche,  where  Pontiac  and  his  Ottawas  were 
encamped.  The  barges  were  landed,  and,  the  women  having  ar- 
ranged themselves  in  two  rows,  witli  clubs  and  sticks,  the  pris- 
oners were  taken  out,  one  by  one,  and  told  to  run  the  gantlet 
to  Pontiac's  lodge.  Of  sixty -six  persons  who  were  brought  to  the 
shore,  sixty-four  ran  the  gantlet,  and  were  all  killed.  One  of  the 
remaining  two,  who  had  had  his  thigh  broken  in  the  firing  irom 
the  shore,  and  who  was  tied  to  his  seat  and  compelled  to  row, 
had  become  by  this  time  so  much  exhausted  that  he  could  not 
help  himself.  He  was  thrown  out  of  the  boat  and  killed  with 
clubs.  The  other,  when  directed  to  run  for  the  lodge,  suddenly 
fell  upon  his  knees  in  the  water,  and  having  dipped  his  hand  in 
the  water,  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  on  his  forehead  and 
breast,  and  darted  out  in  the  stream.  An  expert  swimmer  from 
the  Indians  followed  him,  and,  having  overtaken  him,  seized 
him  by  the  hair,  and  crying  out,  '  You  seem  to  love  water  ;  you 

to  rise  no  more." — Gouin*s  Account,  MS. 


i    I 


■  ■>  (rH 


\ 


t 


200 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


With  the  expectation  of  being  burnt  alive.    On  landing 
near  the  eainp  of  Pontiac,  he  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  Indians,  chiefly  squaws  and  children,  who  pelted  hini 
with  stones,  sticks,  and  gravel,  forcin^^  him  to  dance  and 
smg,  though  by  no  means  in  a  cheerful  strain.     A  worse 
infliction   seemed  in   store  for  him,   when    -lappily  an 
old   woman,  whose    husband  had  lately  died,  chose   to 
adopt  him  m  place  of  the  deceased  warrior.     Seeing  no 
alternative  but  the    stake,    Paully  accepted    the    pro- 
posal ;  and  having  been  first  plunged  in  the  river,  that  the 
white  blood  might  be  washed  from  his  veins,  he  was  con- 
ducted to   the   lodge   of  the  widow,  and  treated  thence- 
forth with  all  the  consideration  due  to  an  Ottawa  warrior 
Gladwyn  soon  received  a  letter  from  him  through  one 
of  the  Canadian  inhabitants,  giving  a  full  account  of  the 
capture  of  ^ort  Sandusky.     On  the  sixteenth  of  May- 
such  was  the  substance  of  the  communication— Paully 
was  informed  that  seven  Indians  were  waiting  at  the  gate 
to  speiik  with  him.    As  several  of  the  number  were  well 
knowa  to  him,  he  ordered  them,  without  hesitation,  to  be 
admitted.     Arrived  at  his  quarters,  two  of  the  treacher- 
ous visitors  seated  themselves  on  each  side  of  the  com- 
mandant, while  the  rest  were  disposed  in  various  parts  of 
the  room.     The  pipes  were  lighted,  and  the  conversation 
began,  when  an  Indian,  who  stood  in  the  doorway,  sud- 
denly  made  a  signal  by  raising  his  head.     Upon  this,  the 
astonished  officer  was  instantly  pounced  upon  and  dis- 
armed; while,  at  the  same  moment,  a  confused  noise  of 
shrieks  and  yells,  the  firing  of 'guns,  and  l^c.  hvrried 
tramp  of  feet,  sounded  from  the  area  of  the  fr-r  wi   lout 
It  soon  ceased,  however,  and  Paully,  led  by  his  captors 
trom  the  room,  saw  the  parade  ground  strown  with  the 
corpses  of  his  murdered  garrison.     At  nightfall,  he  was 
conducted  to  the  margin  of  the  lake,  where  several  birch 
canoes  lav  in  readiness ;  and  as,  amid  thick  darkness,  the 
party  pa,v')od  out  from  shore,  the  captive  saw  the  fort, 
lately   render  his  command,  bursting  on  all  sides  into 


FORT  ST.  JOSEPH. 


201 


Soon  after  these  tidings  of  the  loss  of  Sandusky,  Glad- 
wyn's  garrison  heard  the  scarcely  Ichh  unwelcome  news 
tliat  the  strength  of  th(  ir  besiegers  had  been  rctJnforced 
by  two  strong  bands  of  Ojibwas.  Pontiac's  forces  in  the 
vicinity  of  Detroit  now  amounted,  according  to  Canadian 
computation,  to  about  eight  hundred  and  twenty  warriors. 
Of  these,  two  hundred  and  fifty  were  Ottawas,  com- 
manded by  himself  in  person  ;  one  hundred  and  fifty  were 
I'ottawattamies,  under  Ninivay ;  fifty  were  Wyandots, 
under  Take  ;  two  himdred  were  Ojibwas,  under  Was- 
son  ;  and  added  to  these  were  a  hundred  and  seventy  of 
the  same  tribe,  under  their  chief,  Sekahos.  As  the  war- 
riors brought  their  squaws  and  children  with  them,  the 
whole  number  of  savages  congregated  about  Detroit  no 
doubt  exceeded  three  thousand ;  and  the  neighboring 
fields  and  meadows  must  have  presented  a  picturesque 
and  stirring  scene. 

The  sleepless  garrison,  worn  by  fatigue  and  ill  fare,  and 
harassed  by  constant  petty  attacks,  v/ere  yet  farther  sad- 
dened by  the  news  of  disaster  which  thickened  from 
every  quarter.  Of  ail  the  small  posts  scattered  at  wide 
intervals  through  the  vast  wilderness  to  the  westward  of 
Niagara  and  Fort  Pitt,  it  soon  appeared  that  Detroit 
alone  had  been  able  to  sustain  itself.  For  the  rest,  there 
was  but  one  unvaried  tale  of  calamity  and  ruin.  On  the 
fifteenth  of  June,  a  number  of  Pottawattamies  were  seen 
approaching  the  gate  of  the  fort,  bringing  with  them  four 
English  prisoners,  who  proved  to  be  Ensign  Schlosser, 
lately  commanding  at  St.  Joseph's,  together  with 
three  private  soldiers.  The  Indians  wished  to  exchange 
them  for  several  of  their  own  tribe,  who  had  been  for 
nearly  two  months  prisoners  in  the  fort.  After  some 
delay,  this  was  effected,  and  the  garrison  then  learned 
the  unhappy  fate  of  their  comrades  at  St.  Joseph's. 
This  post  stood  at  the  mouth  of  the  River  St.  Joseph's, 
near  the  head  of  Lake  Michigan,  a  spot  which  had  long 

l-)ppp      fVlP       aifo      rv-f      a      T?r»rnQr>       C^.>\i-\\  nW  n       TY\\ac\f\r\  TToTa 

among  the  forests,  sv^araps,  and  ocean-like  waters,  at  an 


'V. 


1 


'     ?l 


'  I-    r         ^  n 


'  '     IS 


202 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


unmeasured  distance  from  any  abode  of  civilized  man, 
the  daring  and  indefatigable  Jesuits  had  labored  more 
than  half  a  century  for  the  spiritual  good  of  the  Pot- 
tawattamies,  who  lived  in  great  numbers  near  the  margin 
of  the  lake.     As  early  as  the  year  1712,  as  Father  Marest 
informs  us,  the  mission  was   in  a   thriving  state,  and 
around  it  had  gathered  a  little  colony  of  the  forest-loving 
Canadians.      Here,    too,   the    P'rench    government    had 
established  a  military  post,  whose  garrison,  at  the  period 
of  our  narrative,  h}?d  been  supplanted  by  Ensign  Schlossiu-, 
with  his  command  of  fourteen  men,  a  mere  handful,  in 
the  heart  of  a  wilderness  swarming  with  insidious  enemies. 
They  seem,  however,  to  have   apprehended  no  danger, 
when,  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  May,  early  in  the  morning, 
the  officer  was  informed  that  a  large  party  of  the  Pot- 
tawi;ttamies  of  Detroit  had  come  to  pay  a  visit  to  their 
relatives  at  St.  Joseph's.     Immediately  after,  a  Canadian 
came  in  with  intelligence  that  the  fort  was  surrounded 
by  Indians,  who  evidently  had  hostile  intentions.     At 
this,  Schlosser  ran  out  of  the  apartment,  and  crossing 
the  parade,  which  was  full  of  Indians  and  Canadians, 
hastily  entered  the  barracks.     These  were  also  crowded 
with  savages,  very  insolent  and  disorderly.     Calling  upon 
his  sergeant  to  get  the  men  under  arms,  he  hastened  out 
again  to  the  parade,  and  endeavored  to  muster  the  Cana- 
dians, together;  but  while  busying  himself  with   these 
somewhat  unwilling  auxiliaries,  he  heard  a  wild  cry  from 
within  the  barracks.      Instantly  all  the  Indians  in  the 
fort  rushed  to  the  gate,  tomahawked  the  sentinel,  and 
opened  a  free  passage  to  their   comrades  without.    In 
less  than  two  minutes,  as  the  officer  declares,  the  fort  was 
plundered,  eleven  men  were  killed,  and  himself,  with  the 
three  survivors,  made  prisoners,  and  bound  fast.     They 
then  conducted  him  to  Detroit,  Avhere  he  was  exchanged, 
as  we  have  already  seen. 

Three  days  after  these  tidings  reached  Detroit,  Father 
Jonois,  a  Jesuit  priest  of  the  Ottawa  mission  near  Michil- 
limackinac,  came  to  Pontiac's  camp,  together  with  the 


.   :    li 


MICHILLIMACKINAC. 


203 


son  of  Minavavana,  great  chief  of*  the  O  jib  was,  and  several 
other  Indians.  On  the  following  morning,  he  appeared 
at  th(  gate  of  the  fort,  bringing  a  letter  from  Captain 
Etheiington,  commandant  at  Michillimackinac.  The 
commencement  of  the  letter  was  as  follows : — 


«  Sir : 


"  Michillimackinac,  12  June,  1763. 


•'  Notwithstanding  what  I  wrote  you  in  my  last,  that 
all  the  savages  were  arrived,  and  that  everything  seemed 
in  perfect  tranquillity,  yet  on  the  fourth  instant,  the 
Chippeways,  who  live  in  a  plain  near  this  fort,  assembled 
to  play  ball,  as  they  had  done  almost  every  day  since 
their  arrival.  They  played  from  morning  till  noon  ;  then, 
throwing  their  ball  close  to  the  gate,  and  observing  Lieu- 
tenant Lesley  and  me  a  few  paces  out  of  it,  they  came 
behind  us,  seized  and  carried  us  into  the  woods. 

"  In  the  meantime,  the  rest  rushed  into  the  fort,  where 
they  found  their  squaws,  whom  they  had  previously  planted 
theie,  with  their  hatchets  hid  under  their  blankets,  which 
they  took,  and  in  an  instant  killed  Lieutenant  Jamet,  and 
fifteen  rank  and  file,  and  a  trader  named  Tracy.  They 
wounded  two,  and  took  the  rest  of  the  garrison  prisoners, 
five  of  whom  they  have  since  killed. 

"They  made  prisoners  all  the  English  traders,  and 
robbed  them  of  everything  they  had ;  but  they  offered 
no  violence  to  the  persons  or  property  of  any  of  the 
Frenchmen." 

Captain  Etherington  next  related  some  particulars  of 
the  massacre  at  Michillimackinac,  suflBciently  startling, 
as  will  soon  appear.  He  spoke  in  high  terms  of  the 
character  and  conduct  of  Father  Jonois,  and  requested  that 
Gladwyn  would  send  all  the  troops  he  could  spare  up 
Lake  Huron,  that  the  post  might  be  recaptured  from  the 
Indians,  and  garrisoned  afresh  Gladwyn,  being  scarcely 
able  to  defend  himself,  could  do  nothing  for  the  relief  of 
his  brother  officer,  and  the  Jesuit  set  out  on  his  long  and 


4 

'I? 


iM 


! 

<  I 
.  I 
'     I 


i 


..*'''<\*>\i 


-f  u 


ili 


l^l\ 
]il\i 


Ml 


!     I! 


H 


i^^nM 


\ 


204 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


toilsome  canoe  voyage  back  to  Michillimackinac.  The 
loss  of  this  place  was  a  very  serious  misfortune,  for,  next 
to  Detroit,  it  was  the  most  important  post  on  the  upper 
lakes. 

The  next  news  which  came  in  was  that  of  the  loss  of 
Ouatanon,  a  fort  situated  upon  the  Wabash,  a  little  below 
the  site  of  the  present  town  of  La  Fayette.  Gladwyn  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  its  commanding  officer,  Lieutenant 
Jenkins,  informing  him  that,  on  the  first  of  June,  he  and 
several  of  his  men  had  been  made  prisoners  by  stratagem, 
on  which  the  rest  of  the  garrison  had  surrendered.  The' 
Indians,  however,  apologized  for  their  conduct,  declaring 
that  they  acted  contrary  to  their  own  inclinations,  and 
that  the  surrounding  tribes  had  compelled  them  to  take 
up  the  hatchet.*     These  excuses,  so  consolatory  to  the 

^j ,,  g.   _  "  Ouatanon,  June  1st,  1763. 

•'  I  have  heard  of  your  situation,  which  gives  me  great  Pain  ; 
indeed,  we  are  not  in  much  better,  for  this  morning  the  Indians 
sent  for  me,  to  speak  to  me,  and  Immediately  bound  me,  when 
I  got  to  their  Cabbin,  and  I  soon  found  some  of  my  Soldiers  in 
the  same  Condition  :  They  told  me  Detroit,  Miamis,  and  all  them 
Posts  were   cut  off,  and  that  it  was  a  Folly  to  make  any  Resis- 
tance, therefore  desired  me  to  make  the  few  Soldiers,  that  were 
in  the  Fort,  surrender,  otherwise  they  would  put  us  all  to  Death, 
in  case  one  man  was  killed.    Tiiey  were  to  have  fell  on  us  and 
killed  us  all,  last  night,  but  Mr.  Maisongville  and  Lorain  gave 
them  wampum  not  to  kill  us,  &  when  they  told  the  Interpreter 
that  we  were  all  to  be  killed,  &  he  knowing  the  condition  of  the 
Fort,  beg'd  of  them  to  make  us  prisoners.     They  have  put  us  into 
French  houses,  &  both  Indians  and  French  use  us   very  well: 
All  tliese  Nations  say  they  are  very  sorry,  b'  ,t  that  they  were 
obliged  to  do  it  by  the  Other  Nations.     The  Belt  did  not  Arrive 
here  'till  last  night  about  Eight  o'Clock.     Mr.  Lorain  can  inform 
you  of  all.    Just  now  Received  the  News  of  St.  Joseph's  being 
taken.  Eleven  men  killed  and  three    taken  Prisoners  with  the 
Officer :  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,  but  that  I  sincerely  wish 
yon  a  speedy  succour,  and  that  we  may  be  able  to  Revenge  our- 
selves on  those  that  Deserve  it. 


**  I  Remain,  with  mv  Sincerest 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Edwd.  Jenkins, 


FORT  MIAMI  TAKEN. 


205 


sufferers,  might  probably  have  been  founded  in  truth,  for 
these  savages  were  of  a  character  less  ferocious  than 
many  of  the  others,  and  as  they  were  farther  removed 
from  the  settlements,  they  had  not  felt  to  an  equal  degree 
the  effects  of  English  insolence  and  encroachment. 

Close  upon  these   tidings   came  the  news  that  Fort 
Miami  was  taken.      This  post,  standing   on  the   River 
Maumee,  was  commanded  by  Ensign  Holmes ;  and  here 
I  cannot  but  remark  on  the  forlorn  situation  of  these 
oflftcers,  isolated  in  the  wilderness,  hundreds   of  miles, 
in  some  instances,  from  any  congenial  associates,  separated 
from  every  human  being  except  the  rude  soldiers  under 
their  command,  and  the  white  or  red  savages  who  ranged 
the  surrounding  woods.    Holmes  suspected  the  intention  of 
the  Indians,  and  was  therefore  on  his  guard,  when,  on  the 
twenty-seventh  of  May,  a  young  Indian  girl,  who  lived 
with  him,  came  to  tell  him  that  a  squaw  lay  dangerously 
ill  in    a  wigwam    near  the    fort,   and    urged    him  to 
come  to  her  relief.      Having    confidence    in    the  girl, 
Holmes  followed  her  out  of  the  fort.    Pitched  at  the  edge 
of  a  meadow,  hidden  from  view  by  an  intervening  spur 
of  the  woodland,  stoud  a  great  number  of  Indian  wig- 
wams.    When  Holmes  came  in  sight  of  them,  his  treach- 
erous conductress  pointed  out  that  in  which  tho  sick  wo- 
man lay.     He  walked  on  without  suspicion ;  but,  as  he 
drew  near,  two  guns  flashed  from  behind  the  hut,  and 
stretched  him  lifeless  on  the  grass.     The  shots  were  heard 
at  the  fort,  and  the  sergeant  rashly  went  out  to  learn  the 
reason  of  the  firing.     He  was  immediately  taken  prisoner, 
amid  exulting  yells  and  whoopings.    The  soldiers  in  the 
fort  climbed  upon  the  palisades,  to  look  out,  when  Gode- 
froy,  a   Canadian,  together   with  two  other  white  men, 
made  his  appearance,  and  summoned  them  to  surrender, 
promising  that  if  they  did  so,  their  lives  should  be  spared, 
but  that  otherwise  they  would  all  be  killed  without  mercy. 
The  men,  being  in  great  terror,  and  without  a  leader,  soon 
threw  open  the  gate,  and  gave  themselves  up  as  prisoners. 
Had  detachments  of  Rogers'  Rangers  garrisoned  these 


It   'HI 


fm 


^  His 


4 


if  il 


2UG 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


posts,  or  had  they  been  held  by  such  men  as  the  Rocky 
Mountain  trappers  of  the  present  day,  wary,  skilful,  and 
almost  Ignorant  of  fear,  some  of  them  might,  perhaps 
have  been  saved ;  but  the  soldiers  of  the  60th  Regiment' 
though  many  of  them  were  of  provincial  birth,  were  not 
qualified  by  their  habits  and  discipline  for  this  kind  of 
service. 

The  loss  of  Presqu'Isle  will  close  this  black  catalogue 
of  calamity.  Rumors  of  it  first  reached  Detroit  on  the 
twentieth  of  June,  and  two  days  after,  the  garrison  heard 
those  dismal  cries,  announcing  scalps  and  prisoners,  which 
of  late,  had  grown  mournfully  familiar  to  their  ears.  In- 
dians were  seen  passing,  in  numbers,  along  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  river,  leading  several  English  prisoners,  who 
proved  to  be  Ensign  Christie,  the  commanding  officer  at 
Presqu'Isle,  with  those  of  his  soldiers  who  survived 

There  had   bden  hot  fighting  before  Presqu'Isle  was 
taken.     Could  courage  have  saved  it,  it  would  never  have 
fallen.     The  fort  stood  near  the  site  of  the  present  town 
of  Erie,  on  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake  which  bears  the 
same  name.    At  one  of  its  angles  was  a  large  blockhouse 
a  species  of  structure  much  used  in  the  petty  forest  war- 
fare of  the  day.     It  was  two  stories  in  height,  and  solidly 
built  of  massive  timber,  the  diameter  of  the  upper  story 
exceeding  that  of  the  lower  by  several  feet,  so  that,  through 
openings  in  the  projecting  floor  of  the  former,  the  defen- 
ders could  shoot  down  upon  the  heads  of  an  enemy  assailing 
the  outer  wall  below.     The  roof  being  covered  with  shin- 
gles, might  easily  be  set  on  fire ;  but  to  guard  against  this, 
there  was  an  opening  at  the  summit,  through  which  the 
garrison,  partially  protected  by  a  covering  of  plank,  might 
pour  down  water  upon  the  flames.     This  blockhouse  stood 
on  a  projecting  point  of  land,  between  the  lake  and  a  small 
brook  which  entered  it  nearly  at  right  angles.     Unfor- 
tunately, the  bank  of  the  brook  rose  in  a  high,  steep  ridge, 
within  forty  yards  of  tlie  blockhouse,  thus  afl:ording  a 
■ui^Tvi  xv^i   aonaiiaixin,  -.vuiiu   uiu  fjiiiiK.  oi  zhq  LdKki  Offered 
similar  facilities  on  another  side. 


FORT  PRESQU'ISLE. 


207 


At  early  dawn  on  the  fifteenth  of  June,  the  garrison  of 
Presqu'Isle  were  first  aware  of  the  enemy's  presence ;  and 
when  the  sun  rose,  they  saw  themselves  surrounded  by 
two  hundred  Indians,  chiefly  from  the  neighborhood  of 
Detroit.  At  the  first  alarm,  they  abandoned  the  main 
body  of  the  fort,  and  betook  themselves  to  the  blockhouse 
as  a  citadel.  The  Indians,  crowding  together  in  great 
numbers,  under  cover  of  the  rising  ground,  kept  up  a  rat- 
tling fire,  and  not  only  sent  their  bullets  into  every  loop- 
hole and  crevice,  but  shot  fire-arrows  upon  the  roof,  and 
threw  balls  of  burning  pitch  against  the  walls.  Again 
and  again  the  building  took  fire,  and  again  and  again  the 
flames  were  extinguished.  The  Indians  now  rolled  logs 
to  the  top  of  the  ridges,  where  they  constructed  three 
strong  breastworks,  from  behind  which  they  could  dis- 
charge their  shot  and  throw  their  fire-balls  with  still 
greater  Ci^Zect.  Some  of  them  tried  to  dart  across  the  in- 
tervening space,  and  shelter  themselves  in  the  ditch  which 
surrounded  the  fort;  but  all  of  these  were  killed  or 
wounded  in  the  attempt.  And  now  the  defenders  could 
see  the  Indians  throwing  up  earth  and  stones,  behind 
one  of  the  breastworks.  Their  implacable  foes  were 
laboring  to  undermine  the  blockhouse,  a  sure  and  in- 
sidious expedient,  against  which  there  was  no  defence. 
There  was  little  leisure  to  reflect  on  this  new  peril ;  for 
another  more  imminent  and  horrible  soon  threatened 
them.  The  barrels  of  water,  always  kept  in  the  block- 
house, were  nearly  emptied  in  extinguishing  the  frequent 
fires ;  and  though  there  was  a  well  in  the  parade  ground, 
yet  to  approach  it  would  be  certain  death.  The  only  re- 
source was  to  dig  one  in  the  blockhouse  itself.  The  floor 
was  torn  up,  and  while  some  of  the  men  fired  their  heated 
muskets  from  the  loopholes,  to  keep  the  enemy  in  check, 
the  rest  labored  with  desperate  energy  at  this  toilsome 
and  cheerless  task  Before  it  was  half  completed,  the  roof 
was  again  on  fire,  and  all  the  water  that  remained  was 
poured  down  to  extinguish  it.  In  a  few  moments  the 
cry  of  fire  was  once  more  raised,  when  a  soldier,  at  immi- 


Inf 

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2oa 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


iient  risk  of  his  life,  tore  off  the  burning  shingles  and 
averted  the  danger.  ^       "^gies,  ana 

By  this  time  it  was  evening.  From  earliest  daybreak 
the  ittle  garrison  had  fought  and  toiled  without  a  mo- 
ment s  rest.  Nor  did  the  darkness  bring  relief,  for  guns 
flashed  all  night  long  from  the  Indian  intre^chmfnts 
1  hey  seemed  resolved  to  wear  out  the  obstinate  defenders 
by  fatigue ;  and  while  some,  in  their  turn,  were  sleeping, 

t^r/'  T^'P   "IFu^'t  ^'''^"^*-     Morning  brought  fresh  dan- 
gers    The  well  had  been  for  some  time  complete ;  and  it 
was  happy  that  it  was  so,  for  by  this  time  the  enemy  had 
pushed  their  subterranean  approaches  as  far  as  the  house 
of  the  commanding  officer,  which  they  immediately  set 
on  hre.     It  stood  on  the  parade,  close  to  the  blockhouse  • 
and,  as  the  pine  logs  blazed  fiercely,  the  defenders  were 
nearly  stifled  by  the  heat.     The  outer  wall  of  the  block- 
house  scorclied,,blackened,  and  at  last  burst  into  flame, 
btili  the  undespairing  garrison  refused  to  yield.     Passing 
up  water  from  the  well  below,  they  poured  it  down  upon 
the  fire,  which  at  length  was  happily  subdued,  while  the 
blazing  house  soon  sank  into  a  glowing  heap  of  embers 
The  men  were  now,  to  use  the  words  of  their  officer 
exhausted  to  the  greatest  extremity  " ;  yet  they  kept 
up   their  forlorn    and    desperate    defence,    toiling    and 
fighting    without    pause,   within    the   wooden   walls  of 
their  dark  prison,  where  the  close  and  heated  atmos- 
phere  was  clogged  with  the  smoke  of  gunpowder     The 
fire  on  both  sides  continued  through  the  day,  and  did 
not  cease   till   midnight;  at  wHich  hour  a  voice   was 
heard  to  call  out,  in  French,  from  the  enemy's  intrench- 
ments  warning  the  garrison  that  farther  resistance  would 
be  useless,  since  preparations  were  made  for  setting  the 
blockhouse  on  fire,  above  and  below  at  once.     Christie 
demanded  if  there   were  any  among  them  who  spoke 
J^ng  ish ;  upon  which,  a  man  in  the  Indian  dress  came 
ou.  .rom  behind  the  breastwork.     He  was  a  soldier,  who, 

xiavinff  been  marlo  nri«oner  ^ot-Itt  ;^  fi,„  t:\ i.  ,     , 

'  i "*^^   vctiij  lii  iiie  xTuiicii  war,  naa 

since  lived  among  the  savages,  and  now  espoused  their 


FORT  PRESQU'ISLE. 


200 


cause,  fighting  with  them  against  his  own  countrymen, 
lie  said  that  if  they  yielded,  their  lives  should  be  spared, 
but  if  they  fought  longer,  they  must  all  be  burnt  alive. 
Christie,  resolving  to  hold  out  as  long  as  a  shadow  of 
hope  remained,  told  them  to  wait  till  morning  for  his 
answer.  They  assented,  and  suspended  their  lire ;  and 
wliile  some  of  the  garrison  watched,  the  rest  sank  ex- 
liausted  into  a  deep  sleep.  When  morning  came,  Christie 
sent  out  two  soldiers,  as  if  to  treat  with  the  enemy,  but, 
in  reality,  to  learn  the  truth  of  what  they  had  said  re- 
specting their  preparations  to  burn  the  blockhouse.  On 
reaching  the  breastwork,  the  soldiers  made  a  signal,  by 
which  their  officer  saw  that  his  worst  fears  were  well 
founded.  In  pursuance  of  their  orders,  they  then  de- 
manded that  two  of  the  principal  chiefs  should  meet  with 
Christie  midway  between  the  breastwork  and  the  block- 
house. The  chiefs  appeared  accordingly,  and  Christie, 
going  out,  yielded  up  the  little  fortress  which  he  had  de- 
fended with  such  indomitable  courage  ;  having  first  stip- 
ulated that  the  lives  of  all  the  garrison  should  be  spared, 
and  that  they  might  retire  unmolested  to  the  nearest  post. 
The  soldiers,  pale,  wild,  and  haggard,  like  men  who  had 
passed  through  a  fiery  ordeal,  now  issued  from  the  block- 
house, whose  sides  were  pierced  with  bullets  and  scorched 
with  fire.  In  spite  of  the  capitulation,  they  were  sur- 
rounded and  seized,  and  having  been  detained  for  some 
time  in  the  neighborhood,  were  sent  as  prisoners  to 
Detroit,  where  Ensign  Christie  soon  after  made  his  escape, 
and  gained  the  fort  in  safety. 

After  PresquTsle  was  taken,  the  neighboring  little  posts 
of  Le  Boeuf  and  Venango  shared  it;  fate,  while  farther 
southward,  at  the  forks  of  the  Ohio,  a  host  of  Delaware 
and  Shawanoe  warriors  were  gathering  around  Fort  Pitt, 
and  blood  and  havoc  reigned  along  the  whole  frontier. 


I 


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II 

r' , 
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hi 


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ft 


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■     |4 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE  INDIANS  CONTINUE  TO  BLOCKADE  DETROIT. 

We  return  once  more  to  Detroit  and  its  beleaguered 
garrison.     On  the  nineteenth  of  June,  a  rumor  reached 
them  that  one  of  the  vessels  had  been  seen  near  Turkey 
Island,  some  miles  below  the  fort,  but  that,  the  wind  fail- 
ing her,  she  had  dropped  down  with  the  current,  to  wait 
a  more  favorable  opportunity.    It  may  be  remembered 
that  this   vessel  had,  several   weeks  before,  gone  down 
Lake  Erie   to  hasten  the  advance  of   Cuyler's  expected 
detachment.     Passing  these  troops  on  her  way,  she  had 
held  her  course  to  Niagara;  and  here  she  had  remained 
until  the  return  of  Cuyler,  with  the  remnant  of  his  men, 
made   known  the   catastrophe   that  had  befallen    him. 
This  officer,  and  the  survivors  of  his  party,  with  a  few 
other  troops  spared  from  the  garrison  of  Niagara,  were 
ordered  to  embark  on  board  of  her,  and  make  the  best  of 
their  way  back  to  Detroit.     They  had  done  so,  and  now, 
as  we  have  seen,  were  almost  within  sight  of  the  fort ; 
but  the  critical  part  of  the  undertaking  yet  remained.' 
The  river  channel  was  in  some  places  narrow,  and  more 
than  eight  hundred  Indians  were  on  the  alert  to  intercept 
their  passage. 

For  several  days,  the  officers  at  Detroit  heard  nothing 
farther  of  the  vessel,  when,  on  the  twenty-third,  a  great 
commotion  was  visible  among  the  Indians,  large  parties 
of  whom  were  seen  to  pass  along  the  outskirts  of  the 
woods,  behind  the  fort.  The  cause  of  these  movements 
was  unknown  till  evening,  when  M.  Baby  came  in  with 
...•,.,. i^j^^,_iavv-  vUdi  ciic  vcaoci  wab  iigaiii  ui/buuiptnig  to  ascciiu 
the  river,  and  that  all  the  Indians  had  gone  to  attack  her. 
210 


ATTACK  ON  THE  SCHOONER. 


211 


Upon  this,  two  cannon  were  fired,  that  those  on  board 
might  know  that  the  fort  still  held  out.  This  done,  all 
remained  in  much  anxiety  awaiting  the  result. 

The  schooner,  late  that  afternoon,  began  to  move  slowly 
upward,  with  a  genth  breeze,  between  the  main  shore 
and  the  long-extended  margin  of  Fighting  Island.  About 
sixty  men  were  crowded  on  board,  of  whom  only  ten  or 
twelve  were  visible  on  deck,  the  officer  having  ordered 
the  rest  to  lie  hidden  below,  in  hopes  that  the  Indians, 
encouraged  by  this  apparent  weakness,  might  make  an 
open  attack.  Just  before  reaching  the  narrowest  part  of 
the  channel,  the  wind  died  away,  and  the  anchor  was 
dropped.  Immediately  above,  and  within  gunshot  of  the 
vessel,  the  Indians  had  made  a  breastwork  of  logs,  care- 
fully concealed  by  bushes,  on  the  shore  of  Turkey  Island. 
Here  they  lay  in  force,  waiting  for  the  schooner  to  pass. 
Ignorant  of  this,  but  still  cautious  and  wary,  the  crew 
kept  a  strict  watch  from  the  moment  the  sun  went  down. 
Hours  wore  on,  ard  nothing  had  broken  the  deep  repose 
of  the  night.  The  current  gurgled  with  a  monotonous 
sound  around  the  bows  of  the  schooner,  and  on  either 
hand  the  wooded  shores  lay  amid  the  obscurity,  black  and 
silent  as  the  grave.  At  length,  the  sentinel  could  dis- 
cern, in  the  distance,  various  moving  objects  upon  the 
dark  surface  of  the  water.  The  men  wore  ordered  up 
from  below,  and  all  took  their  posts  in  perfect  silence. 
The  blow  of  a  hammer  on  the  mast  was  to  be  the  signal 
to  fire.  The  Indians,  gliding  stealthily  over  the  water  in 
their  birch  canoes,  had,  by  this  time,  approached  within 
a  few  rods  of  their  fancied  prize,  when  suddenly  the  dark 
side  of  the  slumbering  vessel  burst  into  a  blaze  of  cannon 
and  musketry,  which  illumined  the  night  like  a  flash  of 
lightning.  Grape  and  musket  shot  flew  tearing  among 
the  canoes,  destroying  several  of  them,  killing  fourteen 
Indians,  wounding  as  many  more,  and  driving  the  rest  in 
consternation  to  the  shore.  Recovering  from  their  sur- 
prise, they  began  to  fire  upon  the  vessel  from  behind  their 
breastwork ;  upon  which  she  weighed  anchor,  anvl  dropped 


'!    Fi 


^■^ 

^p 


I:  I 


1 


II 


Hiiv.| 
J  jMl 

i,'Ni 


!       S 


! 


1  *{ 


■I- 


\ 


212 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


I  4  m 


ill! 


down  once  more  beyond  their  reach,  intt)  the  broad  river 
below.  Several  days  afterwards,  she  again  attempted  to 
ascend.  This  time,  she  met  with  better  success ;  for 
though  the  Indians  fired  at  her  constantly  from  the  shore' 
no  man  was  hurt,  and  at  length  slie  left  behind  her  tlu' 
perilous  channels  of  the  islands.  As  she  passed  tlic 
Wyandot  village,  she  sent  a  shower  of  grape  among  its 
yelping  inhabitants,  by  which  several  were  killed;  and 
then,  furling  her  sails,  lay  peacefully  at  anchor  by  the 
side  of  her  companion  vessel,  abreast  of  the  fort. 

The  schooner  brought  to  the  garrison  a  much  needed 
supply  of  men,  ammunition,  and  provision.  She  brought, 
also,  the  interesting  and  important  tidings  that  peace  was 
at  length  concluded  between  France  and  England.  The 
bloody  and  momentous  struggle  of  the  French  war,  whicli 
had  shaken  North  America  since  the  year  1755,  had  indeed 
been  virtually*  closed  by  the  victory  on  the  Plains  of 
Abraham,  and  the  junction  of  the  three  British  armies 
at  Montreal.  Yet  up  to  this  time,  its  embers  had  con- 
tinued to  burn,  till,  at  length,  peace  was  completely  estab- 
lishes- by  formal  treaty  between  the  hostile  powers. 
France  resigned  her  ambitious  project  of  empire  in  Amer- 
ica, and  ceded  Canada  and  the  region  of  the  lakes  to  her 
successful  rival.  By  this  treaty,  the  Canadians  of  Detroit 
were  placed  in  a  new  position.  Hitherto  they  had  been, 
as  it  were,  prisoners  on  capitulation,  neutral  spectators  of 
the  quarrel  between  their  British  conquerors  and  the  In- 
dians ;  but  now  their  allegiance  was  transferred  from  the 
crown  of  France  to  that  of  Britain,  and  they  were  sub- 
jects of  the  English  king.  To  many  of  them,  the  change 
was  extremely  odious,  for  they  cordially  hated  the  Brit- 
ish. They  went  about  among  the  settlers  and  the  In- 
dians, declaring  that  the  pretended  news  of  peace  was 
only  an  invention  of  Major  Gladwyn ;  that  the  King  of 
France  would  never  abandon  his  children ;  and  that  a 
great  French  army  was  even  then  ascending  the  St.  Law- 


the  Illinois.    This  oft-repeated  falsehood  was  implicitly 


PONTIAC'S  COUNCIL  WITH  THE  FRENCH.        213 

believed  by  the  Indians,  who  continued  firm  in  faith  that 
tlieir  great  father  was  about  to  awake  from  his  sleep,  and 
wreak  his  vengeance  upon  the  insolent  English,  who  had 
intruded  on  his  domain. 

Pontiac  himself  clung  fast  to  this  delusive  hope;  yet 
ho  was  greatly  vexed  at  the  safe  arrival  of  the  vessel,  and 
the  assistance  she  had  ])rought  to  the  obstinate  defenders 
of  Detroit.  lie  exerted  himself  with  fresh  zeal  to  gain 
possession  of  the  place,  and  attempted  to  terrify  Gladwyn 
iiito  submission.  lie  sent  a  message,  in  which  he  strongly 
iiig-cd  him  to  surrender,  adding,  by  way  of  stimulus,  that 
eight  hundred  more  Ojibwas  were  every  day  expected, 
iuid  that,  on  their  arrival,  all  his  influence  could  not  pre- 
vent them  from  taking  the  scalp  of  every  Englishman  in 
the  fort.  To  this  friendly  advice  Gladwyn  returned  a 
very  brief  and  contemptuous  answet*. 

Pontiac,  having  long  been  anxious  to  gain  the  Canadians 
as  auxiliaries  in  the  war,  now  determined  on  a  final  eft'ort 
to  effect  his  object.  For  this  purpose,  he  sent  messages 
to  the  principal  inhabitants,  inviting  them  to  meet  him  in 
council.  In  the  Ottawa  camp,  there  was  a  vacant  spot, 
quite  level,  and  encircled  by  the  huts  of  the  Indians. 
Here  mats  were  spread  for  the  reception  of  the  deputies, 
who  soon  convened,  and  took  their  seats  in  a  wide  ring. 
One  part  was  occupied  by  the  Canadians,  among  whom 
were  several  whose  withered,  leathery  features  proclaimed 
them  the  patriarchs  of  the  secluded  little  settlement. 
Opposite  these  sat  the  stern-visaged  Pontiac,  with  his 
chiefs  on  either  hand,  -  .ile  the  intervening  portions  of 
the  circle  were  filled  by  Canadians  and  Indians  promiscu- 
ously mingled.  Standing  on  the  outside,  and  looking  over 
the  heads  of  this  more  dignified  assemblage,  was  a  motley 
throng  of  Indians  and  Canadians,  half-breeds,  trappers, 
and  voyageurs,  in  wild  and  picturesque,  though  very  dirty 
attire.  Conspicuous  among  them  were  numerous  Indian 
dandies,  a  large  class  in  every  aboriginal  community, 
where  they  hold  about  the  same  relative  position  as  in 
civilized  society.    They  were  wrapped  in  the  gayest  blan- 


'  s. 


[; 


i 

f 

I 

"Ill: 


I 


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214 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


kets,  their  novkn  adorned  with  bends,  their  cheeks  daubed 
wi*h  vermilion,  and  their  cars  hung  with  pendants.  They 
stood  sedately  looking  on,  with  evident  self-complacency, 
yet  ashamed  and  afraid  to  take  their  places  among  the 
aged  chiefs  and  warriors  of  nspute. 

All  was  silent,  and  several  [)ipes  were  passing  round 
from  hand  to  hand,  when  Pontiac  rose,  and  threw  down  a 
war-belt  at  the  ftset  of  the  Canadians. 

"  My  brothers,"  he  said,  "  how  long  will  you  suffer  this 
bad  flesh  to  remain  upon  your  lands?     I  have  told  you 
before,  and  I  now  tiill  you  again,  that  when  I  took  up  the 
hatchet,  it  was  for  your  good.     This  year,  the  English 
nmst  all  perish  throughout  Canada.    The  Master  of  Life 
commands  it,  and  yt)u,  who  know  him  better  than  we, 
wish  to  oppose  his  will.     Until  now  I  have  said  nothing 
on  this  matter.  ^  I  have  not  urged  you  to  take  part  witli 
us  in  the  war.     It  would  have  been  enough  had  you  been 
content  to  sit  ([uiet  on  your  mats,  looking  on,  while  we 
were  fighting  for  you.     But  you  have  not  done  so.     You 
call  yourselves  our  friends  and  yet  you  assist  the  English 
with  provision,  and  go  about  as  spies  among  our  villages. 
This   must  not  continue.     You  must  be  either  wholly 
French  or  wholly  English.     If  you  are  French,  take  up 
that  war-belt,  and  lift  the  hatchet  with  us  ;  but  if  you  are 
English,  then  we  declare  war  upon  you.     My  brothers,  I 
know  this  is  a  hard  tiling.     We  are  all  alike  children  of 
our  great  father  the  King  of  P'rance,  and  it  is  hard  to  fight 
among  brethren   for  the  sake  of  dogs.      But   there  is 
no  choice.     Look  upon  the  belt,  and  let  us  hear   your 
answer." 

One  of  the  Canadians,  having  suspected  the  purpose  of 
Pontiac,  had  brought  with  him,  not  the  treaty  of  peace, 
but  a  copy  of  the  capitulation  of  Montreal  with  its  depen- 
dencies, including  Detroit.  Pride,  or  some  other  motive, 
restrained  him  from  confessing  that  the  Canadians  were 
no  longer  children  of  the  King  of  France,  and  he  deter- 
!8. ..!...»  ^.,,.  i^vvj^  vi^  Lii<^  T^ivi  vici uDiuii  Liiiti.  ii  xTcucuaruiy  was 
on  its  way  to  win  back  Canada,  and  chastise  the  English 


PONTIAC'S  COUNCIL  WITH  TUE  FRENCH.        216 


invaders.  lie  began  his  speech  in  reply  to  Pontiac  by 
professing  great  love  for  the  Indians,  and  a  strong  desire 
to  aid  them  in  the  war.  "  Hut,  my  brothers,"  he  added, 
holding  out  the  articles  of  capittdation,  "  you  must  first 
untie  the  knot  with  which  our  great  father,  tlie  king,  has 
bound  us.  In  this  paper,  lie  tells  all  his  Canadian  chil- 
(licn  to  sit  quiet  and  obey  the  English  until  he  comes, 
lH'(3auHe  he  wishes  to  punish  his  enemies  himself.  We 
dare  not  disobey  him,  for  he  would  then  be  angry  with 
us.  And  you,  my  brothers,  who  speak  of  making  war 
upon  us  if  we  do  not  do  as  you  wish,  do  you  think  you 
could  escape  his  wrath,  if  you  should  raise  the  hatchet 
against  his  French  children  ?  He  would  treat  you  as  en- 
cniiea,  and  not  as  friends,  and  you  would  have  to  fight 
both  English  and  P'rench  at  once.  Tell  us,  my  brothers, 
what  can  you  reply  to  this  ?  " 

Pontiac  for  a  moment  sat  silent,  mortified,  and  per- 
l)l(?xed  ;  but  his  purpose  was  not  destined  to  be  wholly 
defeated.  "  Among  the  French,"  says  the  writer  of  the 
diary,  "  were  many  infamous  characters,  who,  having  no 
property,  cared  nothing  what  became  of  them."  Those 
mentioned  in  these  opprobrious  terms  were  a  collection  of 
trappers,  voyageurs,  and  nondescript  vagabonds  of  the 
forest,  who  were  seated  with  the  council,  or  stood  looking 
on,  variously  attired  in  greasy  shirts,  Indian  leggins,  and 
red  woollen  caps.  Not  a  few  among  them,  however,  had 
thought  proper  to  adopt  the  style  of  dress  and  ornament 
peculiar  to  the  red  men,  who  were  their  usual  associates, 
and  appeared  among  their  comrades  with  paint  rubbed 
on  their  cheeks,  and  feathers  dangling  from  their  hair. 
Indeed,  thej'  aimed  to  identify  themselves  with  the  In- 
dians, a  transformation  by  which  they  gained  nothing ; 
for  these  renegade  whites  were  held  in  light  esteem,  both 
by  those  of  their  own  color  and  the  savages  themselves. 
They  were  for  the  most  part  a  light  and  frivolous  crew, 
little  to  be  relied  on  for  energy  or  stability ;  though 
among  them  were  men  of  hard  and  ruffian  features,  the 
ringleaders  and  bullies  of  vhe  voyageurs,  and  even  a  terror 


1 1 

I 


f"    ! 


M 


■r'H  .'U 


^'M 


tUj 


i      r 


i 


'! 


IS 


» ' 


14 


216 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


to  the  Bourgeois  *  himself.  It  was  one  of  these  who  now 
took  up  the  war-belt,  and  declared  that  he  and  his  com- 
rades were  ready  to  raise  the  hatchet  for  Pontiac.  Tlu 
better  class  of  Canadians  were  shocked  at  this  proceeding, 
and  vainly  protested  against  it.  Pontiac,  on  his  part,  was 
much  pleased  at  such  an  accession  to  his  forces,  and  he 
and  his  chiefs  shook  hands,  in  turn,  with  each  of  their 
new  auxiliaries.  The  council  ha,d  been  protracted  to  a 
late  hour.  It  was  dark  before  the  assembly  dissolved, 
"  so  that,"  as  the  chronicler  observes,  "  these  new  Indians 
had  no  opportunity  of  displaying  their  exploits  that  day." 
They  remained  in  the  Indian  camp  all  night,  being  afraid 
of  the  reception  they  might  meet  among  their  fellow- 
whites  in  the  settlement.  The  whole  of  the  following 
morning  was  employed  in  giving  them  a  feast  of  welcome. 
For  this  enter^tainment  a  large  number  of  dogs  were 
killed,  and  served  up  to  the  guests  ;  none  of  whom,  accord- 
ing to  the  Indian  custom  on  such  formal  'occasions,  were 
permitted  to  take  their  leave  until  they  had  eaten  the 
whole  of  the  enormous  portion  phu   d  before  them. 

Pontiac  derived  little  advantage  from  his  Canadian 
allies,  most  of  whom,  fearing  the  resentment  of  the  Eng- 
lish and  the  other  inhabitants,  fled,  before  the  war  was 
over,  to  the  country  of  the  Illinois.  On  the  night  suc- 
ceeding the  feast,  a  party  of  the  renegades,  joined  by 
about  an  equal  number  of  Indians,  approached  the  fort, 
and  intrenched  themselves,  in  order  to  fire  upon  the  gar- 
rison. At  daybreak,  they  were  observed,  the  gate  was 
thrown  open,  and  a  file  of  men,  headed  by  Lieutenant  Hay, 
sallied  to  dislodge  them.  This  was  effected  without 
much  difficulty.  The  Canadians  fled  with  such  despatch 
that  all  of  them  escaped  unhurt,  though  two  of  the  In- 
dians were  shot. 

It  happened  that  among  the  English  was  a  soldier  who 

*  This  name  is  always  applied,  among  the  Canadians  of  the 
northwest,  to  the  conductor  of  a  tradini^  party,  the  commander 
in  a  trading  fort,  or,  indeed,  to  any  person  in  a  position  of  au- 
thority. 


DEATH  OF  MAJOR  CAMPBELL. 


217 


had  been  prisoner,  for  several  years,  among  the  Dela wares, 
and  who,  while  he  had  learned  to  hate  the  whole  race,  at 
the  same  time  had  acquired  many  of  their  habits  and 
practices.  He  now  ran  forward,  and,  kneeling  on  the 
body  of  one  of  the  dead  savages,  tore  away  the  scalp,  and 
shook  it,  with  an  exulting  cry,  towards  the  fugitives. 
This  act,  as  afterwards  appeared,  excited  great  rage 
among  the  Indians. 

Lieutenant  Hay  and  his  party,  after  their  successful 
sally,  had  retired  to  the  fort ;  when,  at  about  four  o'clock 
ill  the  afternoon,  a  man  was  seen  running  towards  it, 
closely  pursued  by  Indians.  On  his  arriving  within  gun- 
shot distance,  they  gave  over  the  chase,  and  the  fugitive 
came  panting  beneath  the  walls,  where  a  wicket  was 
flung  open  to  receive  him.  He  proved  to  be  the  com- 
mandant of  Sandusky,  who,  having,  as  before  mentioned, 
been  adopted  by  the  Indians,  and  married  to  an  old  squaw, 
now  seized  the  first  opportunity  of  escaping  from  her  em- 
braces. 

Through  him,  the  garrison  learned  the  unhappy  tidings 
that  Major  Campbell  was  killed.  This  gentleman,  from 
his  high  personal  character,  no  less  them  his  merit  as  an 
officer,  was  held  in  general  esteem ;  and  his  fate  excited 
a  feeling  of  anger  and  grief  among  all  the  English  in  De- 
troit. It  appeared  that  the  Indian  killed  and  scalped,  in 
the  skirmish  of  that  morning,  was  nephew  to  Wasson, 
chief  of  the  Ojibwas.  On  hearing  of  his  death,  the  en- 
raged uncle  had  immediately  blackened  his  face  in  sign 
of  revenge,  called  together  a  party  of  his  followers,  and 
repairing  to  the  house  of  Meloche,  where  Major  Campbell 
was  kept  prisoner,  had  seized  upon  him,  and  bound  him 
fast  to  a  neighboring  fence,  where  they  shot  him  to  death 
with  arrows.  Others  say  that  they  tomahawked  him  on 
tlid  spot ;  but  all  agree  that  his  body  was  mutilated  in  a 
barbarous  manner.  His  heart  is  said  to  have  been  eaten 
by  his  murderers,  to  make  them  courageous,  a  practice 
not  uncommon  among  Indians,  after  killing  an  enemy  of 
acknowledged  bravery.    The  corpse  was  thrown  into  the 


-;     li\ 


V 

i 

L 

mm 

j:! 

1 

w 


218 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


river,  and  afterwards  brought  to  shore  and  buried  by  the 
Canadians.  According  to  one  authority,  Pontiac  was 
privy  to  this  act ;  but  a  second,  equally  credible,  repre- 
sents him  as  ignorant  of  it,  and  declares  that  Wasson  was 
compelled  to  fly  to  his  own  village  at  Saginaw,  to  escape 
the  rage  of  the  offended  chief.  Lieutenant  M'Doug[il, 
Campbell's  fellow  in  captivity,  had  previously  found 
means  of  escaping. 

The  two  armed  schooners,  anchored  opposite  the  fort, 
were  now  become  objects  of  awe  and  aversion  to  the  In- 
dians.    This  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  for,  besides  aiding 
in  the  defence  of  the  place,  by  sweeping  two  sides  of  it 
with  their  fire,  they  often  caused  great  terror  and  annov 
ance  to  the  besiegers.     Several  times  they  had  left  their 
anchorage,  and,  taking  up  a  convenient  position,  had  bat- 
tered the  Indian  camps  and  villages  witn  no  little  effect. 
O  u  .  in  particular— and  this  was  the  first  attempt  of  the 
kind— Gladwyn  himself,  with  several  of  his  officers,  had 
embarked   on  board  the  smaller  vessel,  while  a  fresh 
breeze  was  blowing  from  the  north-west.     The  Indians, 
on  the -'banks,  stood  watching  her  as  she  tacked  froni 
shore   to   shore,  and  pressed  their  hands  against  their 
mouths  in  amazement,  thinking  that  magic  power  alone 
could  enable  her  thus  to  make  her  wny  against  wind  and 
current.     Making  a  long  reach  from  the  opposite  shore, 
she  came  on  directly  towards  the  camp  of  Pontiac,  her 
sails  swelling,  her  masts  leaning  over  till  the  black  muz- 
zles of  her  guns  almost  touched  the  river.     The  Indians 
watched  her  in  astonishment.'    On  she  came,  till  their 
fierce  hearts  exulted  in  the  idea  that  she  would  run  ashore 
within  their  clutches,  when  suddenly  a  shout  of  command 
was  heard  on  board,  her  progress  was  arrested,  she  rose 
upright,  and  her  sails  flapped  and  fluttered  as  if  tearing 
loose  from  their  fastenings.     Steadily  she  came  round, 
broadside  to  the  shore ;  then,  leaning  once  more  to  the 
wind,  bore  away  gallantly  on  the  other  tack.     She  did 

not  CO  far.       Thp,  urnnrlprino-  Hnppfafnra    nnifo    of  n  lri<^c    ^ri 

understand  her  movements,  soon  heard  the  hoarse  rattling 


FIRE  RAFTS. 


219 


of  her  cable,  as  the  anchor  dragged  it  out,  and  saw  her 
furling  her  vast  white  wings.  As  they  looked  unsus- 
pectingly on,  a  puff  of  smoke  was  emitted  from  her  side ; 
a  loud  report  followed ;  then  another  and  another ;  and 
the  balls,  rushing  over  their  heads,  flew  through  the 
midst  of  their  camp,  and  tore  wildly  among  the  thick 
forest-trees  beyond.  All  was  terror  and  consternation. 
The  startled  warriors  bounded  away  on  all  sides ;  the 
squaws  snatched  up  their  children,  and  fled  screaming ; 
and,  with  a  general  chorus  of  yells,  the  whole  encamp- 
ment scattered  in  such  haste  that  little  damage  was 
done,  except  knocking  to  pieces  their  frail  cabins  of 
bark. 

This  attack  was  followed  by  others  of  a  similar  Icind ; 
and  now  the  Indians  seemed  resolved  to  turn  all  their 
energies  to  the  destrurtion  of  the  vessel  which  caused 
them  such  annoyance.  On  the  night  of  the  tenth  of 
July,  they  sent  down  a  blazing  raft,  formed  of  two  boats, 
secured  together  with  a  rope,  and  filled  with  pitch  pine, 
birch  bark,  and  other  combustibles,  which,  by  good  for- 
tune, missed  the  vessel,  and  floated  down  the  stream 
without  doing  inj.ury.  All  was  quiet  throughout  the 
following  night ;  but  about  two  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  the  twelfth,  the  sentinel  on  duty  saw  a  glowing  spark 
of  fire  on  the  surface  of  the  river,  at  some  distance  above. 
It  grew  larger  and  brighter ;  it  rose  in  a  forked  flame, 
and  at  length  burst  forth  into  a  broad  conflagration.  In 
this  instance,  too,  fortune  favored  the  vessel ;  for  the  raft, 
which  was  I'arger  than  the  former,  passed  down  between 
her  and  the  fort,  brightly  gilded  hei  tracery  of  ropes  and 
spars,  lighting  up  the  old  palisades  and  bastions  of  De- 
troit with  the  clearness  of  day,  disclosing  the  white 
Canadian  farms  and  houses  along  the  shore,  and  revealing 
the  dusky  margin  of  the  forest  behind.  It  showed,  too, 
a  dark  group  of  naked  spectators,  who  stood  on  the  bank 
to  watch  the  effect  of  their  artifice,  when  a  cannon  flashed, 
a  loud  report  broke  the  stillness,  and  before  the  smoke  of 
the  gun  had  risen,  these  curious  observers  had  vanished. 


I    ' 


id 


{'[' 


I        : 


Mill 


220 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


m 


The  raft  floated  down,  its  flames  crackling  and  glaring 
wide  through  the  night,  until  it  was  burnt  to  the  water's 
edge,  and  its  last  hissing  embers  were  quenched  in  the 
river. 

Though  twice  defeated,  the  Indians  would  not  abandon 
their  plan,  but,  soon  after  this  second  failure,  began  an- 
other raft,  of  different  construction  from  the  former,  and 
so  large  that  they   thought   it  certain  to  take   effect. 
Gladwyn,    on    his    part,    provided    boats    which    were 
moored  by  chains  at  some  distance  above  the  vessels,  and 
made  other  preparations  of  defence,  so  effectual  that  the 
Indians,  after  working  four  days  upon  the  raft,  gave  over 
their  undertaking  as  useless.     About  this  time,  a  party 
of  Shawanoe  and  Delaware  Indians  arrived  at  Detroit, 
and  were  received  by  the  Wyandots  with  a  salute  of 
musketry,  which  occasioned  some  alarm  among  the  Eng- 
lish, who  kne\^  nothing  of  its  cause.     They  reported  the 
progress  of  the  war  in  the  south  and  east;  and,  a  few 
days  after,  an  Abenaki,  from  Lower  Canada,  also  made 
his  appearance,  bringing  to  the  Indians  the  flattering 
falsehood  that  their  great  father,  the  King  of  France, 
was  at  that  moment  advancing  up  the  St.  Lawrence  with 
his  army.     It  may  here  be  observed,  that  the  name  of 
father,   given    to   the  Kings    of  France  and    England, 
was   a   mere  title    of    courtesy  or  policy;    for,   in  his 
haughty  independence,  the  Indian  yields   submission  to 
no  man. 

^  It  was  now  between  two  anfi  three  months  since  the 
siege  began ;  and  if  one  is  disposed  to  think  slightingly  of 
the  warriors  whose  numbers  could  avail  so  little  against 
a  handful  of  half-starved  English  and  provincials,  he  has 
only  to  recollect  that  where  barbarism  has  been  arrayed 
against  civilization,  disorder  against  discipline,  and  un- 
governed  fury  against  considerate  valor,  such  has  seldom 
failed  to  be  the  result. 

At  the  siege  of  Detroit,  the  Indians  displayed  a  high 
v^egree  of  comparative  steadiness  and  perseverance ;  and 
their  history  cannot  furnish  another  instance  of  so  large 


CHANGING  TEMPER  OF  THE  INDIANS. 


221 


a  force  persisting  so  long  in  the  attack  of  a  fortified  place. 
Their  good  conduct  may  be  ascribed  to  their  deep  rage 
against  the  English,  to  their  hope  of  speedy  aid  from  the 
French,  and  to  the  controlling  spirit  of  Pontiac,  which 
held  them  to  their  work.  The  Indian  is  but  ill  qualified 
for  such  attempts,  having  too  much  caution  for  an  as- 
sault by  storm,  and  too  little  patience  for  a  blockade. 
The  Wyandots  and  Pottawattamies  had  shown,  from  the 
beginning,  less  zeal  than  the  other  nations  ;  and  now,  like 
children,  they  began  to  tire  of  the  task  they  had  under- 
taken. A  deputation  of  the  Wyandots  came  to  the  fort, 
and  begged  for  peace,  which  was  granted  them  ;  but  when 
the  Pottawattamies  came  on  the  same  errand,  they  in- 
sisted, as  a  preliminary,  that  some  of  their  people,  who 
were  detained  prisoners  with  the  English,  should  first  be 
given  up.  Gladwyn  demanded,  on  his  part,  that  the  Eng- 
lish captives  known  to  be  in  their  village  should  be 
brought  to  the  fort,  and  three  of  them  were  accordingly 
produced.  As  these  were  but  a  small  part  of  the  whole, 
the  deputies  were  sharply  rebuked  for  their  duplicity,  and 
told  to  go  back  for  the  rest.  They  withdrew  angry  and 
mortified ;  but,  on  the  following  day,  a  fresh  deputation 
of  chiefs  made  their  appearance,  bringing  with  them  six 
prisoners.  Having  repaired  to  the  council-room,  they 
were  met  by  Gladwyn,  attended  only  by  one  or  two  oflB- 
cers.  The  Indians  detained  in  the  fort  were  about  to  be 
given  up,  and  a  treaty  concluded,  when  one  of  the  prison- 
ers declared  that  there  were  several  others  still  remain- 
ing in  the  Pottawattamie  village.  Upon  this,  the  confer- 
ence was  broken  off,  and  the  deputies  ordered  instantly 
to  depart.  On  being  thus  a  second  time  defeated,  they 
were  goaded  to  such  a  pitch  of  rage,  that,  as  afterwards 
became  known,  they  formed  the  desperate  resolution  of 
killing  Gladwyn  on  the  spot,  and  then  making  their  es- 
cape in  the  best  way  they  could ;  but  happily,  at  that  mo- 
ment the  commandant  observed  an  Ottawa  among  them, 
and,  resolving  to  seize  him,  called  upon  the  guard  with- 
out to  assist  in  doing  so.    A  file  of  soldiers  entered,  and 


I  ■^■'TTr' 


'I  1 


ii  .1- 


l>  3' 


\i^ 


222 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  chiefs,  seeing  it  impossible  to  execute  their  design, 
withdrew  from  the  fort,  with  black  and  sullen  brows.  A 
day  or  two  afterwards,  however,  they  returned  with  the 
rest  of  the  prisoners,  on  which  peace  was  granted  them, 
and  their  people  set  at  liberty. 


III »' 
irl 


i  J 


IP  i 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  FIGHT  OF  BLOODY    BRIDGE. 


From  the  time  when  peace  was  concluded  with  the 
Wyandots  and  Pottawattamies  until  the  end  of  July, 
little  worthy  of  notice  took  place  at  Detroit.  The  fort 
was  still  watched  closely  by  the  Ottawas  and  Ojibwas, 
who  almost  daily  assailed  it  with  petty  attacks.  In  the 
mean  time,  unknown  to  the  garrison,  a  strong  reenforce- 
ment  was  coming  to  their  aid.  Captain  Dalzell  had  left 
Niagara  with  twenty-two  barges,  bearing  two  hundred 
and  eighty  men,  with  several  small  cannon,  and  a  fresh 
supply  of  provision  and  ammunition. 

Coasting  along  the  south  shore  of  Lake  Erie,  they  soon 
reached  Presqu'Isle,  where  they  found  the  scorched  and 
battered  blockhouse  so  gallantly  defended  by  Ensign 
(Uiristie,  and  saw  with  surprise  the  mines  and  intrench- 
ments  made  by  the  Indians  in  assailing  it.  Thence,  pro- 
ceeding on  their  voyage,  they  reached  Sandusky  on  the 
twenty-sixth  of  July  ;  and  here  they  marched  inland  to 
the  neighboring  village  of  the  Wyandots,  which  they 
burnt  to  the  ground,  at  the  same  time  destroying  the 
corn,  which  this  tribe,  more  provident  than  most  of  the 
others,  had  planted  there  in  the  spring.  Dalzell  then 
steered  northward  for  the  mouth  of  the  Detroit,  which 
he  reached  on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-eighth,  and 
cautiously  ascended  under  cover  of  night.  "  It  was  for- 
tunate," writes  Gladwyn,  "  that  they  were  not  discovered, 
in  which  case  they  must  have  been  destroyed  or  taken, 
as  the  Indians,  being  emboldened  by  their  late  successes, 
fight  much  better  t.Lan  we  could  have  expected." 

,,.!.       ^.,.,.       ........  I.  ,Q J         ; J 

around  Detroit  was  covered  by  a  sea  of  fog,  the  precursor 

223 


f'  fi 


^•j 


;^# 


\ 


i 


224 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


^'1 


Of  a  hot  and  sultry  day ;  but  at  sunrise,  its  surface  began 
to  heave  and  toss,  and,  parting  at  intervals,  disclosed  the 
dark  and  burnished  surface   of  the   river ;  then  lightly 
rolling,  fold  upon  fold,  the  mists  melted  rapidly  away 
the  last  remnant  clinging  sluggishly  along  the  margin  of 
the  forests.    Now,  for  the  first  time,  the  garrison  could 
discern  the  approaching  convoy.     Still  they  iiimained  in 
suspense,  fearing  lest  it  might  have  met  the  fate  of  the 
former  detachment;  but  a  salute  from  the  fort  was  an- 
swered by  a  swivel  from  the  boats,  and  at  once  all  ap- 
prehension passed  away.     The  convoy  soon  reached  a 
point  in  the  river  midway  between   the  villages  of  the 
Wyandots  and  the  Pottawattamies.    About  a  fortnight 
before,  as   we  have  seen,  these   capricious   savages  had 
made  a  treaty  of  peace,  which  they  now  thought  fit  to 
break,  opening  ^a  hot  fire  upon  the  boats  from  either  bank 
It  was  answered  by  swivels  and  musketry ;  but  before 
the  short  engagement  was  over,  fifteen  of  the  English 
were  killed  or  wounded.     This  danger  passed,  boat  after 
boat  came  in  to  shore,  and  landed  its  men  amid  the  cheers 
of  the  garrison.     The  detachment  was  composed  of  sol- 
diers from  the  55th  and  80th  Regiments,  wdth  twenty  in- 
dependent  rangers,  commanded  by  Major  Rogers ;  and  as 
the  barracks  in  the  place  were  too  small  to  receive  them 
they  were  all  quartered  upon  the  inhabitants. 

Scarcely  were  these  arrangements  made,  when  a  great 
smoke  was  seen  rising  from  the  Wyandot  village  across 
the  river,  and  the  inhabitants,  apparently  in  much  con- 
sternation, were  observed  paddling  down  stream  with 
their  household  utensils,  and  even  their  dogs.  It  was 
supposed  that  they  had  abandoned  and  burned  their  huts  • 
but  in  truth,  it  was  only  an  artifice  of  these  Indians,  who 
had  set  fire  to  some  old  canoes  and  other  refuse  piled  in 
front  of  their  village,  after  which  the  warriors,  having 
concealed  the  women  and  children,  returned  and  lay  in 
ambush  among  the  bushes,  hoping  to  lure  some  of  the 
Jingiisii  within  reach  of  their  guns.  None  of  them,  how- 
ever, fell  into  the  snare. 


DALZELL  REACHES  DETROIT. 


225 


Captain  Dalzell  was  the  same  officer  who  was  the  com- 
panion of  Isra* '  Putnam  in  some  of  the  most  adventurous 
passages  of  that  rough  veteran's  life  ;  but  more  recently 
lie  had  acted  as  aide-de-camp  to  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst.  On 
the  day  of  his  arrival,  he  had  a  conference  with  Gladwyn, 
at  the  quarters  of  the  latter,  and  strongly  insisted  that  the 
time  was  come  when  an  irrecoverable  blow  might  be 
struck  at  Pontiac.  He  requested  permission  to  march 
out  on  the  following  night,  and  attack  the  Indian  camp. 
Gladwyn,  better  acquainted  with  the  position  of  affairs, 
and  perhaps  more  cautious  by  nature,  was  averse  to  the 
attempt;  but  Dalzell  urged  his  request  so  strenuously 
that  the  commandant  yielded  to  his  representations,  and 
gave  a  tardy  consent.* 

Pontiac  had  recently  removed  his  camp  from  its  old 
position  near  the  mouth  of  Parent's  Creek,  and  was  now 
posted  several  miles  above,  behind  a  great  marsh,  which 
protected  the  Indian  huts  from  the  cannbn  of  the  vessel. 
On  the  afternoon  of  the  thirtieth,  orders  were  issued  and 
preparations  made  for  the  meditated  attack.  Through 
the  inexcusr.ble  carelessness  of  some  of  the  officers,  the 
design  became  known  to  a  few  Canadians,  the  bad  re- 
sult of  which  will  appear  in  the  sequel. 

About  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  thirty-first  of 
July,  the  gates  were  thrown  open  in  silence,  and  the  de- 
tachment, two  hundred  and  fifty  in  number,  passed  noise- 
lessly out.    They  filed  two  deep  along  the  road,  while 


m^i 


\: 


H. 


n ,  ,i 


*  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter— Major  Gladwyn  to  Sir  J.  Amherst. 

"Detroit,  Aug.  8th,  1763. 
"  On  the  31st,  Captain  Dalyell  Requested,  as  a  particular  favor, 
that  I  would  give  him  the  Command  of  a  Party,  in  order  to  At- 
tempt the  Surprizal  of  Pontiac's  Camp,  undercover  of  the  Night, 
to  which  I  answered  that  I  was  of  opinion  he  was  too  much  on 
his  Guard  to  effect  it ;  he  then  said  he  thought  I  had  it  in  my 
power  to  give  him  a  Stroke,  and  that  if  I  did  not  Attempt  it 

now,   ne   WOUiU  Xtmi  Uil,   una    X  auOUiu  iicvci    navrj    anvliici    \j-ppvx  = 

tunity  ;  this  induced  me  to  give  in  to  the  Scheme,  contrary  to 
ray  Judgement." 

IS 


I 


1 1 


i'W 


226 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


two  large  bateaux,  each   bearing  a  swivel  on  the  bow, 
rowed  up  the  river  abreast  of  them.     Lieutenant  Brown 
led  the  advanced  guard  of  twenty-five  men ;  the  centre 
was  commanded  by  Captain  Gray,  and  the  rear  by  Cap- 
tain Grant.     The  night  was  still,  close,  and  sultry,  and 
the  men  marched  in  light  undress.     On  their  right  was 
the  dark  and  gleaming  surface  of  the  river,  with  a  mjir- 
gin  of  riand  intervening,  and  on  their  left  a  succession  of 
Canadian  houses,  with  barns,  orchards,  and   cornfields, 
from  whence  the  clamorous  barking  of  watch-dogs  saluted 
them  as  they  passed.     The  inhabitants,  roused  from  sleep, 
looked  from  the   windows  in  astonishment  and   alarm. 
An  old  man  has  told   the  writer  how,  when  a   child,  he 
climbed  on  the  roof  of  his  father's  house,  to  look  down  on 
the  glimmering  bayonets,  and  how,  long  after  the  troops 
had  passed,  theiu  heavy  and   measured  tramp   sounded 
from  afar,  through   the  still  night.    Thus  the   English 
moved  forward  to  the  attack,  little  thinking  that,  behind 
houses  and  enclosures,  Indian  scouts  watched  every  yard 
of  their  progress— little  suspecting  that  Pontiac,  apprised 
by  the  Canadians  of  their  plan,  had  broken  up  his  camp, 
and  was  coming  against  them  with  all  his  warriors,  armed 
and  decorated  for  battle. 

A  mile  and  a  half  from  the  fort.  Parent's  Creek,  ever 
since  that  night  called  Bloody  Run,  descended  through  a 
wild  and  rough  hollow,  and  entered  the  Detroit  amid  a 
growth  of  rank  grass  and  sedge.  Only  a  few  rods  from 
its  mouth,  the  road  crossed  it  by  a  ^narrow  wooden  bridge, 
not  existing  at  the  present  day.  Just  beyond  this  bridge, 
the  land  rose  in  abrupt  ridges,  parallel  to  the  stream. 
Along  their  summits  were  rude  intrenchments  made  by 
Pontiac  to  protect  his  camp,  which  had  formerly  occupied 
the  ground  immediately  beyond.  Here,  too,  were  many 
piles  of  firewood  belonging  to  the  Canadians,  besides 
strong  picket  fences,  enclosing  orchards  and  gardens 
connected  with  the  neighboring  houses.  Behind  fences, 
wood-piles,  and  intrenchments,  crouched  an  unknown 
number  of  Indian  warriors  with  levelled  guns.    They  lay 


RETREAT  OF  THE  ENGLISH. 


227 


silent  as  snakes,  for  now  they  could  hear  the  distant 
tramp  of  the  approaching  column. 

The  sky  was  overcast,  and  the  night  exceedingly  dark. 
As  the  English  drew  near  the  dangerous  pass,  they  could 
discern  the  oft-mentioned  house  of  Meloche  upon  a  rising 
ground  to  the  left,  while  in  front  the  bridge  was  dimly 
visible,  and  the  ridges  beyond  it  seemed  like  a  wall  of 
undistinguished  blackness.  They  pushed  rapidly  forward, 
not  wholly  unsuspicious  of  danger.  The  advanced  guard 
wers  half  way  over  the  bridge,  and  the  main  body  just 
entering  upon  it,  when  a  horrible  burst  of  yells  rose  in 
their  front,  and  the  Indian  guns  blazed  forth  in  a  general 
discharge.  Half  the  advanced  party  were  shot  down  ; 
the  appalled  survivors  shrank  back  aghast.  The  confu- 
sion reached  even  the  main  body,  and  the  whole  recoiled 
together  ;  but  Dalzell  raised  his  clear  voice  above  the  din, 
advanced  to  the  front,  rallied  the  men,  and  led  them  for- 
ward to  the  attack.  Again  the  Indians  poured  in  their 
volley,  and  again  the  English  hesitated;  but  Daii^ell 
shouted  from  the  van,  and,  in  the  madness  of  mingled 
rage  and  fear,  they  charged  at  a  run  across  the  bridge 
and  up  the  heights  beyond.  IS  ot  an  Indian  was  there  to 
oppose  them.  In  vain  the  furious  soldiers  sought  their 
enemy  behind  fences  and  intrenchments.  The  active 
savages  had  fled ;  yet  still  their  guns  flashed  thick  through 
the  gloom,  and  their  war-cry  rose  with  undiminished 
clamor.  The  English  pushed  forward  amid  the  pitchy 
darkness,  quite  ignorant  of  their  way,  and  soon  became 
involved  in  a  maze  of  outhouses  and  enclosures.  At 
every  pause  they  made,  the  retiring  enemy  would  gather 
to  renew  the  attack,  firing  back  hotly  upon  the  front  and 
flanks.  To  advance  farther  would  be  useless,  and  the 
only  alternative  was  to  withdraw  and  wait  for  daylight. 
Captain  Grant,  with  his  company,  recrossed  the  bridge, 
and  took  up  his  station  on  the  road.    The  rest  followed, 

q  oTTiqll  no-nfTT  »»Qr«Qir>iTirT  ff\  hr\^A  fVio  onamv  in  nhpf>lr  ivhilp 

the  dead  and  wounded  were  plav^ed  on  board  the  two 
bateaux,  which  had  rowed  up  to  the  bridge  during  the 


% 


I  i 


'  1 


228 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


action.    This  task  was  commenced  amid  a  sharp  fire  from 
both  sides ;  and  before  it  was  completed,  heavy  volleys 
were   heard  from   the   rear,  where   Captain   Grant  was 
stationed.     A  great  force  of  Indians  had  fired  upon  him 
from  the  huuse  of  Meloche  and  the  neighboring  orchards. 
Grant  pushed   up   the  liill,   and   drove   them  from  the 
orchards  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet— drove  them,  also, 
from  the  house,  and,  entering  tlie  latter,  found  two  Cana- 
dians within.     These  men  told  him  that  the  Indians  were 
bent  on  cutting  off  the  English  from  the  fort,  and  that 
they  had  gone  in  great  numbers  to  occupy  the  houses 
which  commanded  the  road  below.     It  was  now  evident 
that   instant   retreat  was  necessary;  and  the  command 
being  issued  to  that  effect,  the  men  fell  back  into  march- 
ing  order,  and  slowly  began  their  retrograde  movement. 
Grant  was  now  i^  the  van,  and  Dalzell  at  the  rear.     Some 
of  the  Indians  followed,  keeping  up  a  scattering  and  dis- 
tant fire ;  and  from  time  to  time  the  rear  faced  about,  to 
throw  back  a  volley  of  musketry  at  the  pursuers.    Hav- 
ing proceeded  in  this  ihanner  for  half  a  mile,  they  reached 
a  point  Adhere,  close  upon  the  right,  v/ere  many  barns  and 
outhouses,  with  strong  picket  fences.     Behind  these,  and 
in  a  newly-dug  cellar  close  at  hand,  lay  concealed  a  great 
multitude  of  Indians.     They  suffered  the  advanced  party 
to  pass  unmolested ;  but  when  the  center  and  rear  came 
opposite  their  ambuscade,  they  raised  a  frightful  yell,  and 
poured  a  volley  among  them.     The  men  had  well-nigh 
fallen  into  a  panic.     The  river  ran  close  on  their  left,  and 
the  only  avenue  of  escape  lay  along  the  road  in  front. 
Breaking  their  ranks,  they  crowded  upon  one  another  in 
blind  eagerness  to  escape  the  storm  of  bullets ;  and  but 
for  the  presence  of  Dalzell,  the  retreat  would  have  been 
turned  into  a  flight.     "  The  enemy,"  writes  an  officer  who 
was   in   the   fight,   "marked  him  for  his   extraordinary 
bravery ; »  and  he  had  already  received  two  severe  wounds. 
Yet  his  exertions  did  not  .,lacken  for  a  moment.     Some 
ut  Lii,..  ^^^,,^^^io  xx.  acwiii%.cu,  ouiiii;  iju  lureatenea,  ana  some 
he  beat  with  the  flat  of  his  sword ;  till  at  length  order 


DEATH  OF  DALZELL. 


229 


was  partially  restored,  and  the  fire  of  the  enemy  returned 
with  effect.  Though  it  was  near  dayhreak,  the  dawn 
was  obscured  by  thick  fog,  and  little  could  be  seen  of  the 
Indians,  except  the  incessant  flashes  of  their  guns  amid 
the  mist,  while  hundreds  of  voices,  mingled  in  one  appal- 
ling yell,  confused  the  faculties  of  the  men,  and  drowned 
the  shout  of  command.  The  enemy  had  taken  possession 
of  a  house,  from  the  windows  of  which  they  fired  down 
upon  the  English.  Major  Rogers,  with  some  of  his  pro- 
vincial rangers,  burst  the  door  with  an  axe,  rushed  in, 
and  expelled  them.  Captain  Gray  was  ordered  to  dis- 
lodge a  large  party  from  behind  some  neighboring  fences, 
lie  charged  them  witii  his  company,  but  fell,  mortally 
wounded,  in  the  attempt.  They  gave  way,  however  ;  and 
now,  the  fire  of  the  Indians  being  much  diminished,  the 
retreat  was  resumed.  No  sooner  had  the  men  faced 
about,  than  the  savages  came  darting  through  the  mist 
upon  their  flank  and  rear,  cutting  down  stragglers,  and 
scalping  the  fallen.  At  a  little  distance  lay  a  sergeant  of 
the  55th,  helplessly  wounded,  raising  himself  on  his 
hands,  and  gazing  with  a  look  of  despair  after  his  retiring 
comrades.  The  sight  caught  the  eye  of  Dnlzell.  That 
gallant  soldier,  in  the  true  spirit  of  heroism,  ran  out,  amid 
the  firing,  to  rescue  the  wounded  man,  when  a  shot  struck 
him,  and  he  fell  dead.  Few  observed  his  fate,  and  none 
durst  turn  back  to  recover  his  body.  The  detachment 
pressed  on,  greatly  harassed  by  the  pursuing  Indians. 
Their  loss  would  have  been  much  more  severe,  had  not 
Major  Rogers  taken  possession  of  another  house,  which 
commanded  th3  road,  and  covered  the  retreat  of  the 
party. 

He  entered  it  with  some  of  his  own  iiien,  while  many 
panic-stricken  regulars  broke  in  after  him,  in  their  eager- 
ness to  gain  a  temporary  shelter.  The  house  was  a  large 
and  strong  one,  and  the  women  of  the  neighborhood  had 
crowded  into  the  cellar  for  refuge.  While  some  of  the 
soldiers  looked  in  blind  terror  for  a  place  of  concealment, 
others  seized  upon  a  keg  of  whiskey  in  one  of  the  rooms, 


!  -I 


I 


it.- 


\ 


230 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


h  i 


and  quaffed  the  liquor  with  eager  thirst,  while  others 
ngiim,  piled  packs  of  furs,  furniture,  and  all  else  within 
their  reacli,  against  the  windows,  to  serve  as  a  barricadi;. 
Panting  and  breathless,  their  faces  moist  with  sweat  and 
blackened  with  gunpowder,  they  thrust  their  muskets 
through  the  openings,  and  flred  out  upon  the  whooping 
assailants.    At  intervals,  a  bullet  flew  sharply  whizzing 
through  a  (Tevice,  striking  down  a  man,  perchance,  or 
rappuig  harmlessly  against  the  partitions.    Old  Campau, 
the  master  of  the  house,  stood  on  a  trap-door  to  prevent 
the  frightened  soldiers  from  seeking  shelter  among  the  . 
women  in  the  cellar.     A  ball  grazed  his  gray  head,  and 
buried  itself  in  the  wall,  where  a  few  years  since  it  might 
still   have   been   seen.     The   screams  of  the  half-stifled 
women  below,  the   quavering  war-whoops  witliout,  the 
shouts  and  curses  of  the  soldiers,  the  groans  and  blas- 
pheming of  the  wounded  men,  mingled  in  a  scene  of 
clamorous  confusion,  and  it  was  long  before  the  authority 
of  liogers  could  restore  order. 

In  the  rjcantime.  Captain  Grant,  with  his  advanced 
party,  had  moved  forward  about  half  a  mile,  where  he 
found  some  orchards  and  enclosures,  by  means  of  which 
he  could  maintain  himself  until  th(?  centre  and  rear  should 
arrive.     From  this  point  he  detached  all  the  men  he 
could  spare  to  occupy  the  houses  below;  and  as  soldiers 
scxMi  began  to  come  in  from  the  rear,  he  was  enabled  to 
reenforce   these   detachments,  until  a  complete  line  of 
connnunication  was  established  with  the  fort,  and  the  re- 
treat  effectually   secured.     Within   an  hour,  the  whole 
party  had  arrived,  with  the  exception  of  Rogers  and  his 
inen,  who  were  quite  unable  to  come  off,  being  besieged 
in  the  house  of  Campai,  by  full  two  hundred  Indians. 
The  two  armed  bateaux  had  gone  down  to  the  fort,  laden 
with  the  dead  and  wounded.     They  now  returned,  and, 
in  o})edience  to  an  order  from  Grant,  proceeded  up  the 
river  to  a  point  opposite  Campau's  house,  where  they 
opened  a  fire  of  swivels,  which  swept  the  ground  above 
and  below  it,  and  completely  scattered  the  assailants. 


GRANT  CONDUCTS  THE  RETREAT. 


231 


Ilogers  and  his  party  now  came  out,  and  marched  down 
tlie  road,  to  unite  themselves  with  Grant.  The  two  ba- 
teaux accompanied  them  closely,  and,  by  a  constant  Are, 
restrained  the  Indians  from  making  an  attack.  Scarcely 
liad  Rogers  left  the  house  at  one  door,  when  the  enemy 
(Altered  it  at  another,  to  obtain  the  scalps  from  two  or 
three  corpses  left  behind.  Foremost  of  them  all,  a 
withered  old  squaw  rushed  in,  with  a  shrill  scream,  and, 
slashing  open  one  of  the  dead  bodies  with  her  knife, 
s(!ooped  up  the  blood  between  her  hands,  and  quaffed  it 
with  a  ferocious  ecstasy. 

Grant  resumed  his  retreat  as  soon  as  Rogers  had  ar- 
rived, falling  back  from  house  to  house,  and  joined  in 
succession  by  the  parties  sent  to  garrison  each.  The 
Indians,  in  great  numbers,  stood  whooping  and  yelling, 
at  a  vain  distance,  quite  unable  to  make  an  attack,  so 
well  did  Grant  choose  his  positions,  and  so  steadily  and 
coolly  conduct  the  retreat.  About  eight  o'clock,  after  six 
hours  of  marching  and  combat,  the  detachment  entered 
once  more  within  the  sheltering  palisades  of  Detroit. 

In  this  action,  the  English  lost  fifty-nine  men,  killed 
and  wounded,  .'he  loss  of  the  Indians  could  not  be  as- 
certained, but  it  certainly  did  not  exceed  fifteen  or  twenty. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  fight,  tlielr  numbers  were  probably 
much  inferior  to  those  of  t)xe  Englisli ;  but  fresh  parties 
were  continually  joining  them,  until  seven  or  eight 
hundred  warriors  must  have  been  present. 

The  O  jib  was  and  Ottawas  only  formed  the  ambuscade 
at  the  bridge,  under  Pontiac's  command ;  for  the  Wyan- 
dots  and  Pottiiwattamies  came  later  to  the  scene  of 
action,  crossing  the  river  in  their  canoes,  or  passing 
round  through  the  woods  behind  the  fort,  to  take  part  in 
the  fray. 

In  speaking  of  the  fight  of  Bloody  Bridge,  an  able 
writer  in  the  Annual  Register  for  the  year  1763  observes, 
with  justice,  thdt  although  in  European  warfare  it  would 
be  deemed  a  mere  skirmish,  yet  in  a  conflict  with  the 
American  savages,  it  rises  to  the  importance  of  a  pitched 


S  ) 


1 1 


B              '  '''^''  '^hI 

I't^^l 

'  iiii^B 

i 
11 


232 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


battle ;  since  these  people,  being  thinly  scattered  over  a 
great  extent  of  country,  are  accustomed  to  conduct  their 
warfare  by  detail,  and  never  take  the  field  in  any  great 
force. 

The  Indians  were  greatly  elated  by  their  success. 
Runners  were  sent  out  for  several  hundred  miles,  through 
the  surrounding  woods,  to  spread  tidings  of  the  victory ; 
and  reenforcements  soon  began  to  come  in  to  swell  the' 
force  of  Pontiac.  "Fresh  warriors,"  wi-ites  Gladwyn, 
"arrive  almost  every  day,  and  I  believe  that  I  shall  soon 
be  besieged  by  upwards  of  a  thousand."  The  English,  on 
their  part,  were  well  prepared  for  resistance,  since  the 
garrison  now  comprised  more  than  three  hundred  effective 
men ;  and  no  one  entertained  a  doubt  of  their  ultimate 
success  in  defending  the  place.  Day  after  day  passed  on  ; 
a  few  skirmishep  took  place,  and  a  few  men  were  killed, 
but  nothing  worthy  of  notice  occurred,  until  the  night 
of  the  fourth  of  September,  at  which  time  was  achieved 
one  of  the  most  memorable  feats  which  the  chronicles  of 
that  day  can  boast. 

The  schooner  Gladwyn,  the  smaller  of  the  two  armed 
vessels  so  often  mentioned,  had  been  sent  down  to 
Niagara  with  letters  and  despatches.  She  was  now  re- 
turning, having  on  board  Horst,  her  master,  Jacobs,  her 
mate,  and  a  crew  of  ten  men,  all  of  whom  were  provincials, 
besides  six  Iroquois  Indians,  supposed  to  be  friendly  to 
the  English.  On  the  night  of  the  third,  she  entered  the 
River  Detroit ;  and  in  the  morning  the  six  Indians  asked 
to  be  set  on  shore,  a  request  which  was  foolishly  granted. 
They  disappeared  in  the  woods,  and  probably  reported  to 
Pontiac's  warriors  the  small  numbers  of  the  crew.  The 
vessel  stood  up  the  river  until  nightfall,  when,  the  wind 
failing,  she  was  compelled  to  anchor  about  nine  miles  be- 
low the  fort.  The  men  on  board  watched  with  anxious 
vigilance ;  and  as  night  came  on,  they  listened  to  every 
sound  which  broke  the  stillness,  from  the  strange  cry  of 
the  nighthawk,  wheeling  round  and  round  above  their 
heads,  to  the  bark  of  the  fox  from  the  woods  on  shore. 


ATTACK  ON  THE  SCHOONER  GLADWYN.        233 


I 


The  night  set  in  with  darkness  so  complete,  that  at 
the  distance  of  a  few  rods  nothing  could  be  discerned. 
Meantime,  three  hundred  and  fifty  Indians,  in  their  birch 
canoes,  glided  silently  down  with  the  current,  and  were 
close  upon  the  vessel  before  they  were  seen.  There  was 
only  time  to  fire  a  single  cannon-shot  among  them,  before 
they  were  beneath  her  bows,  and  clambering  up  her 
sides,  holding  their  knives  clinched  fast  between  their 
teeth.  The  crew  gave  them  a  close  fire  of  musketry, 
without  any  effect ;  then,  fiinging  down  their  guns,  they 
seized  the  spears  and  hatchets  with  which  they  were  all 
provided,  and  met  the  assailants  with  such  furious  energy 
and  courage,  that  in  the  space  of  two  or  three  minutes 
they  had  killed  and  wounded  more  than  twice  their  own 
number.  But  the  Indians  were  only  checked  for  a 
moment.  The  master  of  the  vessel  was  killed,  several  of 
the  crew  were  disabled,  and  the  assailants  were  leaping 
over  the  bulwarks,  when  Jacobs,  the  mate,  called  out  to 
blow  up  the  schooner.  This  desperate  command  saved 
her  and  her  crew.  Some  Wyandots,  who  had  gained  the 
deck,  caught  the  meaning  of  his  words,  and  gave  the 
alarm  to  their  companions.  Instantly  every  Indian 
leaped  overboard  in  a  panic,  and  the  whole  were  seen 
diving  and  swimming  off  in  all  directions,  to  escape  the 
threatened  explosion.  The  schooner  was  cleared  of  her 
assailants,  who  did  not  dare  to  renew  the  attack ;  and  on 
the  following  morning  she  sailed  for  the  fort,  which  she 
reached  without  molestation.  Six  of  her  crew  escaped 
unhurt.  Of  the  remahider,  two  were  killed,  and  four 
seriously  wounded,  while  the  Indians  had  seven  men 
killed  upon  the  spot,  and  nearly  twenty  wounded,  of 
whom  eight  were  known  to  have  died  within  a  few  days 
after.  As  the  whole  action  lastad  but  a  few  minutes,  the 
fierceness  of  the  struggle  is  sufficiently  apparent  from 
the  loss  on  both  sides.  The  survivors  of  the  little  crew 
were  afterwards  rewarded  as  their  undaunted  bravery 
deserved.* 
*  Extract  from  "  A  Relation  of  the  Gallant  Defence  made  by  the 


♦     f  I 


i-riKl 


I'M'    11 


b.  jj.4  ,j 


t1 


'l-h 


mm 


I 


234 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


And  now,  taking  leave,  for  a  time,  of  the  garrison  of 
Detroit,  whose  fortunes  we  have  followed  so  long,  we 
will  turn  to  observe  the  progress  of  events  in  a  quarter  of 
the  wilderness  yet  more  wild  and  remote. 

Crew  of  the  Schooner  on  Lake  Erie,  when  Attacked  by  a  Large 
Body  of  Indians  :  as  Published  by  Order  of  Sir  Jeffery  Amherst 
in  the  New  York  Papers." 

"  The  Schooner  Sailed  from  Niagara,  loaded  with  Provisions, 
some  time  in   August  Ias+  :    Her  Crew  consisted  of  the  Master 
and  Eleven  Men.  vith  Six  Mohawk  Indians,  who  were  Intended 
for  a  particulai  Service.    She  entered  the  Detroit  River,  on  tlie 
8d  September ;  And  on  the  4th  in  tlie  Morning,  the  Mohawks 
seemed  very   Desirous  of  being  put  on  Shore,  which  the  Master, 
very  Inconsiderately,  agreed  to.     The  Wind  proved  contrary  all 
that  Day  ;  and  in  the  Evening,  the  Vessell  being  at  Anchor,  about 
nine    o'Clock,  the  Boat-swain  discovered  a  Number  of  Canoes 
coming  down  the  River,  with  about  Three  Hundred  and  Fifty 
Indians  ;  Upon  wMch  the  Bow  Gun  was  Immediately  Fired  ;  but 
before  the  other  Guns  could  be  brought  to  Bear,  the  Enemy  got 
under  the  Bow  and  Stern,  in  Spite  of  the  Swivels  «fe  Small  Arms, 
and  Attemped  to  Board  the  Vessell  ;  Whereupon  the  Men  Aban- 
doned their  Small  Arms,  and  took  to  their  Spears,   with  which 
they  were  provided  ;  And  with.  Amazing  Resolution  and  Bravery, 
knocked  the  Savages  in  the   Head ;  Killed   many  ;  and  saved 
the  Vessell.  .  .  It  is  certain  Seven  of  the  Savages  were  Killed  on 
the  Spot,  and  Eight  had  Died  of  those  that  were  Wounded,  wlien 
the  Accounts  came  away.     The   Master  and   One  Man    \vere 
Killed,   and  four  Wounded,  on   Board  the  Schooner,   and   the 
other  Six  brought  her  Safe  to  the  Detroit." 

It  is  somewhat  singular  that  no  mention  is  here  made  of  the 
command  to  blow  up  the  vessel.  The  most  explicit  authorities 
on  this  point  are  Carver,  who  obtained  his  account  at  Detroit, 
three  years  after  the  war,  and  a  letter  published  in  the  Penn- 
sylvania  Gazette,  No.  1816.  This  letter  is  dated  at  Detroit,  five 
days  after  the  attack.  The  circumstance  is  also  mentioned  in 
several  traditional  accounts  of  the  Canadians. 


ii'  p 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


MICHILLIMACKINAC. 


In  the  spring  of  the  year  1763,  before  the  war  broke 
out,  several  English  traders  went  up  to  Michillimackinac, 
some  adopting  the  old  route  of  the  Ottawa,  and  others 
that  of  Detroit  and  the  lakes.  We  will  follow  one  of  the 
latter  on  his  adventurous  progress.  Passing  the  fort  and 
settlement  of  Detroit,  he  soon  enters  Lake  St.  Clair, 
which  seems  like  a  broad  basin  filled  to  overflowing, 
while,  along  its  far  distant  verge,  a  faint  line  of  forest 
separates  the  water  from  the  sky.  He  crosses  the  lake, 
and  his  voyageurs  next  urge  his  canoe  against  the  cur- 
rent of  the  great  river  above.  At  length.  Lake  Huron 
opens  before  him,  stretching  its  liquid  expanse,  like  an 
ocean,  to  the  farthest  horizon.  His  canoe  skirts  the 
eastern  shore  of  Michigan,  where  the  forest  rises  like  a 
wall  from  the  water's  edge ;  and  as  he  advances  northward, 
an  endless  line  of  stiff  and  shaggy  fir-trees,  hung  with 
long  mosses,  fringes  the  shore  with  an  aspect  of  monoto- 
nous desolation.  In  the  space  of  two  or  three  weeks,  if 
his  Canadians  labor  well,  and  no  accident  occur,  the 
trader  approaches  the  end  of  his  voyage.  Passing  on  his 
right  the  extensive  Island  of  Bois  Blanc,  he  sees,  nearly 
in  front,  the  beautiful  Mackinaw,  rising,  with  its  white 
cliffs  and  green  foliage,  from  the  broad  breast  of  the 
waters.  He  does  not  steer  towards  it,  for  at  that  day  the 
Indians  were  its  only  tenants,  but  keeps  along  the  main 
shore  to  the  left,  while  his  voyageurs  raise  their  song 
and  chorus.  Doubling  a  point,  he  sees  before  him  the 
red  flag  of  England  swelling  lazily  in  the  wind,  and  the 
palisades  and  wooden  bastions  of  Fort  Michillimackinac 

235 


--J.- 


HI 


.-H; 

<m 

''•  ^M 

■v  m 

";..« 

s  1 

1 

"  1  ■ 

1 

-L.-.H 

l.!(S5t,    .     If  Hi 

'  ?   '^'^tI^I 

~ 

/^^H 

[Jl1«l 


p 


I! 


236 


THE     CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


standing  close  upon  the  margin  of  the  lake.  On  the 
beach,  canoes  ar^  drawn  up,  and  Canadians  and  Indians  are 
idly  lounging.  A  little  beyond  the  fort  is  a  cluster  of  the 
white  Canadian  houses,  roofed  with  bark,  and  protected 
by  fences  of  strong  round  pickets. 

The  trader  enters  at  the  gate,  and  sees  before  him  an 
extensive  square  area,  surrounded  by  high  palisades. 
Numerous  houses,  barracks,  and  other  buildings  form  a 
smaller  square  within,  and  in  the  vacant  space  which 
they  enclose,  appear  the  red  uniforms  of  British  soldiers, 
the  gray  coats  of  Canadians,  and  the  gaudy  Indian  blan- 
kets, mingled  in  picturesque  confusion,  while  a  multitude 
of  squaws,  with  children  of  every  hue,  stroll  restlessly 
about  the  place.  Such  was  Fort  Michillimackinac  in 
1763.  Its  name,  which,  in  the  Algonquin  tongue,  signi- 
fies the  Great  Turtle,  was  first,  from  a  fancied  resemblance, 
applied  to  the  neighboring  island,  and  thence  to  the 
fort. 

Though  buried  in  a  wilderness,  Michillimackinac  was 
still  of  no  recent  origin.  As  early  as  1671,  the  Jesuits 
had  established  a  mission  near  the  place,  and  a  military 
force  was  not  long  in  following ;  for,  under  the  French 
dominion,  the  priest  and  the  soldier  went  hand  in  hand. 
Neither  toil,  nor  suffering,  nor  all  the  terrors  of  the 
wilderness,  could  damp  the  zeal  of  the  undaunted  mission- 
ary ;  and  the  restless  ambition  of  France  was  always  on 
the  alert  to  seize  every  point  of  vantage,  and  avail  itself 
of  every  means  to  gain  ascendency  over  the  forest  tribes. 
Besides  Michillimackinac,  there  were  two  other  posts  in  this 
northern  region,  Green  Bay,  and  the  Sault  Ste.  Marie.  Both 
were  founded  at  an  early  period,  and  both  presented  the 
same  characteristic  features,  a  mission-house,  a  fort,  and 
a  cluster  of  Canadian  dwellings.  They  had  been  origin- 
ally garrisoned  by  small  parties  of  militia,  who,  bringing 
their  families  with  tliem,  settled  on  the  spot,  and  were 
fnnndprs  ni  ihaap  lifflo  nf<\r\r>iaa       lyji^UiMi^^^^i^: -_i- 

the  largest  of  the  three,  contained  thirty  families  within 
the  palisades  of  the  fort,  and  about  as  many  more  with- 


THE  NEIGHBORING  TRIBES. 


237 


out.  Besides  its  military  value,  it  was  important  as  a 
centre  of  the  fur-trade ;  for  it  was  here  that  the  traders 
engaged  their  men,  and  sent  out  their  goods  in  canoes, 
under  the  charge  of  subordinates,  to  the  more  distant 
regions  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  north-west. 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  the  garrison  and 
the  settlers  were  completely  isolated — cut  off  from  all 
connection  with  the  world ;  and,  indeed,  so  great  was  the 
distance,  and  so  serious  the  perils,  which  separated  the 
three  sister  posts  of  the  northern  lakes,  that  often, 
through  the  whole  winter  all  intercourse  was  stopped  be- 
tween them. 

It  is  difficult  for  the  imagination  adequately  to  conceive 
the  extent  of  these  fresh- water  oceans,  and  vast  regions 
of  forest,  which,  at  the   date  of  our  narrative,  were  the 
domain  of  nature,  a  mighty  hunting  and  fishing  ground, 
for  the   sustenance   of  a  few  wandering  tribes.      One 
might  journey  among  them  for  days,  and  even  weeks  to- 
gether, without  beholding  a  human  face.     The  Indians 
near  Michillimackinac  were  the  Ojibwas  and  Ottawas,  the 
former  of  whom  claimed  the  eastsrn  section  of  Michigan, 
and  the  latter  the  western,  their  respective  portions  be- 
ing separated  by  a  line  drawn  southward  from  the  fort 
itself.      The  principal  village  of  the   Ojibwas  contained 
about  a  hundred  warriors,  and  stood  upon  the  Island  of 
Michillimackinac,   now  called    Mackinaw.       There   was 
another  smaller  village  near  the  head  of  Thunder  Bay. 
The  Ottawas,  to  the  number  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
warriors,  lived  at  the  settlement  of  L'Arbe  Croche,  on 
the  shores  of  Lake  Michigan,  some  distance  west  of  the 
fort.     This  place  was  then  the  scat  of  the  old  Jesuit  mis- 
sion of  St.  Ignace,  originally  placed  by  Father  Marquette 
on  the  northern  side  of  the  straits.    Many  of  the  Ottawas 
were  nominal  Catholics.     They  were  all  somewhat  im- 
proved from  their  original  savage  condition,  living  in  log 
houses,  and  cultivating  corn  and  vegetables  to  such  an 
extent  as  to  supply  the  fort  with  provision,  besides  satis- 
fying their  own  wants.      The  Ojibwas,  on    the  other 


i   I  , 
I 


f  I 


<    I 


i   I 


l^  ^ 


Illll 

In 


23S 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


hand,  were  not  in  the  least  degree  removed  from  their 
primitive   barbarism. 

These  two  tribes,  with  most  of  the  other  neighboring 
Indians,  were  strongly  hostile  to  the  English.  Many  of 
their  warriors  had  fought  against  them  in  the  late  war, 
for  France  had  summoned  allies  from  the  farthest  corners 
of  the  wilderness,  to  aid  her  in  her  desperate  struggle. 
This  feeling  of  hostility  was  excited  to  a  higher  pitch  by 
the  influence  of  the  Canadians,  who  disliked  the  English, 
not  merely  as  national  enemies,  but  also  as  rivals  in  the 
fur-trade,  and  were  extremely  jealous  of  their  intrusion 
upon  the  lakes.  The  following  incidents,  which  occurred 
in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1761,  will  illustrate  the  state 
of  feeling  which  prevailed  :— 

At  that  time,  although  Michillimackinac  had  been  sur- 
rendered,  and  the  French  garrison  removed,  no  English 
troops  had  yet  arrived  to  supply  their  place,  and  the 
Canadians  were  the  only  tenants  of  the  fort.     An  ad- 
venturous trader,  Alexander  Henry,  who,  with  one  or  two 
others,  was  the  pioneer  of  the  English  fur-trade  in  this 
region,  came  to  Michillimackinac   by  the  route  of  the 
Ottawa.     On  the  way,  he  was  several  times  warned  to 
turn  back,  and  assured  of  death  if  he  proceeded,  and,  at 
length,  was  compelled  for  safety  to  assume  the  disguise 
of  a  Canadian  voyageur.     When  his  canoes,  laden  with 
goods,  reached  the  fort,  he  was  very  coldly  received  by  its 
inhabitants,  who  did  all  in  their  power  to  alarm  and  dis- 
courage  him.     Soon  after  his  arrival,  he   received  the 
very  unwelcome   information   that  a  large  number  of 
Ojibwas,  from  the  neighboring  villages,  were  coming,  in 
their  canoes,  to  call  upon  him.     Under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, such  a  visitation,  though  disagreeable  enough, 
would  excite  neither  anxiety  nor  surprise ;  for  the  Indians, 
when  in  their  villages,  lead  so  monotonous  an  existence, 
that   they  are  ready  to  snatch  at  the  least  occasion  of 
excitement,  and   the  prospect  of  a  few  trifling  presents, 
and  a  few  pipes  of  tobacco,  is  often  a  sufficient  induce- 
ment for  a  journey  of  several  days.     But  in  the  present 


ADVENTURES  OF  A  TRADER. 


239 


instance,  there  was  serious  cause  of  apprehension,  since 
Canadians  and  Frenchmen  were  alike  hostile  to  the 
solitary  trader.  The  story  could  not  be  better  tol''  than 
in  his  own  graphic  and  truthful  words. 

"  At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  Chippewas  (Ojib- 
was)  came  to  the  house,  about  sixty  in  number,  and  headed 
by  Minavavana,  their  chief.  They  walked  in  single  file, 
each  with  his  tomahawk  in  one  hand  and  scalping-knife 
in  the  other.  Their  bodies  were  naked  from  the  waist 
upward,  except  in  a  few  examples,  where  blankets  were 
thrown  loosely  over  the  shoulders.  Their  faces  were 
painted  with  charcoal,  worked  up  with  grease,  their 
bodies  with  white  clay,  in  patterns  of  various  fancies. 
Some  had  feathers  thrust  through  their  noses,  and  their 
heads  decorated  with  the  same.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
dwell  on  the  sensations  with  which  I  beheld  the  approach 
of  this  uncouth,  if  not  frightful  assemblage. 

«  The  chief  entered  first,  and  the  rest  followed  without 
noise.  On  receiving  a  sign  from  the  former,  the  latter 
seated  themselves  on  the  floor. 

"  Minavavana  appeared  to  be  about  fifty  years  of  age. 
He  was  six  feet  in  height,  and  had  in  his  countenance  an 
indescribable  mixture  of  good  and  evil.  Looking  stead- 
fastly at  me,  where  I  sat  in  ceremony,  with  an  interpreter 
on  either  hand,  and  several  Canadians  behind  me,  he 
entered,  at  the  same  time,  into  conversation  with  Campion, 
inquiring  how  long  it  was  since  I  left  Montreal,  and 
observing,  that  the  English,  as  it  would  seem,  were  brave 
men,  and  not  afraid  of  death,  since  they  dared  to  come,  as 
I  had  done,  fearlessly  among  their  enemies. 

"  The  Indians  now  gravely  smoked  their  pipes,  while  I 
inwardly  endured  the  tortures  of  suspense.  At  length, 
the  pipes  being  finished,  as  well  as  a  long  pause,  by  which 
they  were  succeeded,  Minavavana,  taking  a  few  strings  of 
wampum  in  his  hand,  began  the  following  speech : — 

" '  Englishman,  it  is  to  you  that  I  speak,  and  I  demand 
your  attention. 

" '  Englishman,  you  know  that  the  French  king  is  our 


V 


I  ;| 


II, ' 


,     f 


MK^mA^ttil     li 


It 


lillil 

III 


r  I 


^1 


l|- 


J 


ll 


i  '«l 


a 


240 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


father.     He  promised  to  be  such ;  and  we,  in  return,  prom- 
ised to  be  his  children.     This  promise  we  have  kept. 

'"Englishman,  it  is  you  that  have  made  war  with  this 
our  father.  You  are  his  enemy ;  and  how,  then,  could 
you  have  the  boldness  to  venture  among  us,  his  children  ? 
You  know  that  his  enemies  are  ours. 

"'Englishman,  we  are  informed  that  our  father,  the 
Kuig  of  Frnce,  is  old  and  infirm  ;  and  that,  being  fatigued 
with  making  war  upon  your  nation,  he  is  fallen  asleep. 
During  his  sleep,  you  have  taken  advantiige  of  him,  and 
possessed  yourselves  of  Canada.  But  his  nap  is  almost  at 
an  end.  I  think  I  hear  him  already  stirring,  and  inquir- 
ing  for  his  children,  the  Indians ;  and  when  he  does 
awake,  what  must  become  of  you  ?  He  will  destroy  you 
utterly.  "^  -^ 

« '  Englishmai|,  although  you  have  conquered  the 
French,  you  have  not  yet  conquered  us.  We  are  not  your 
slaves.  These  lakes,  these  woods  and  mountains,  were 
left  to  us  by  our  ancestors.  They  are  our  inheritance  • 
and  we  will  part  with  them  to  none.  Your  nation  sup- 
poses that  we,  like  the  white  people,  cannot  live  without 
bread,  and  pork,  and  beef !  But  you  ought  to  know  that 
He,  the  Great  Spirit  and  Master  of  Life,  has  provided  food 
for  us  in  these  spacious  lakes,  and  on  these  woody 
mountains. 

"'Englishman,  our  father,  the  King  of  France,  em- 
ployed our  young  men  to  make  war  upon  your  nation 
In  this  warfare,  many  of  them  have  been  killed ;  and  it  is 
our  custom  to  retaliate  until  such  time  as  the  spirits  of  the 
slain  are  satisfied.  But  the  spirits  of  the  slain  are  to  be 
satisfied  in  either  of  two  ways ;  the  first  is,  by  the  spill- 
ing of  the  blood  of  the  nation  by  which  they  fell ;  the 
other,  by  covering/  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  and  thus  allay- 
ing the  resentment  of  their  relations.  This  is  done  by 
making  presents. 

"  '  Englishman,  your  king  has  never  sent  us  any  pres- 
ents, nor  entered  into  any  treaty  with  us  ;  wherefore  he 
and  we  are  still  at  war;  and,  until  he  does  these  things, 


SPEECH  OF  MINAVAVANA. 


24t 


we  must  consider  that  wo  have  no  other  father  nor  friend, 
among  the  white  men,  than  the  King  of  France ;  but  for 
you,  we  have  taken  into  consideration  that  you  have  ven- 
tured your  Hfe  among  us,  in  the  expectation  that  we 
should  not  molest  you.  You  do  not  come  armed,  with  an 
intention  to  make  war  ;  you  come  in  peace,  to  trade  with 
us,  and  supply  us  with  necessaries,  of  which  we  are  in 
nuich  want.  We  shall  regard  you,  therefore,  as  a  brother  ; 
and  you  may  sleep  tranquilly,  without  fear  of  the 
Chippewas.  As  a  token  of  our  friendship,  we  present  you 
this  pipe  to  smoke.' 

"  As  Minavavana  uttered  these  words,  an  Indian  pre- 
sented me  with  a  pipe,  which,  after  I  had  drawn  the 
smoke  three  times,  was  carried  to  the  chief,  and  after  him 
to  f  very  person  in  the  room.  This  ceremony  ended,  the 
chief  arose,  and  gave  me  his  hand,  in  which  he  was  fol- 
lowed by  all  the  rest." 

These  tokens  of  friendship  were  suitably  acknowledged 
by  the  trader,  who  made  a  formal  reply  to  Minavavana's 
s[)eech.  To  this  succeeded  a  request  for  whiskey  on  the 
part  of  the  Indians,  with  which  Henry  unwillingly  com- 
plied ;  and,  having  distributed  several  small  additional 
presents,  he  beheld,  with  profound  sat^  ''action,  the  de- 
parture of  his  guests.  .  Scarcely  had  he  ceased  to  congrat- 
ulate himself  on  having  thus  got  rid  of  the  O  jib  was,  or, 
as  he  calls  them,  the  Chippewas,  when  a  more  formidable 
invasion  once  more  menaced  him  with  destruction.  Two 
hundred  L'Arbre  Croche  Ottawas  came  in  a  bodv  to  the 
fort,  and  summoned  Henry,  together  with  Goddard  and 
Solomons,  two  other  traders,  who  had  just  arrived,  to 
meet  them  in  council.  Here  they  informed  their  startled 
auditors  that  they  must  distribute  their  goods  among  the 
Indians,  adding  a  worthless  promise  to  pay  them  in  the 
spring,  and  threatening  force  in  case  of  a  refusal.  Being 
allowed  until  the  next  morning  to  reflect  on  what  they 
had  heard,  the  traders  resolved  on  resistance,  and,  accord- 
ingly, arming  about  thirty  of  their  men  with  muskets, 
they  barricaded  themselves  in  the  house  occupied  by 
i6 


t  I 


if 


•M,l 


i      i ! :  ! 


I    I 


jj^noKK^;! 


i 


242 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Henry,  and  kept  strict  watch  all  night.     The  Ottawas 
however,  did  not  venture  an  atttick.     On  the  following 
day,  the  Canadians,  with  pretended  sympathy,  strongly 
advised   compliance    with   the  demand;    but  the    three 
traders  resolutely  held  out,  and  kept  possession  of  their 
stronghold  till  night,  when,  to  their  surprise  and  joy,  the 
news  arrived  that  the  body  of  troops  known  to  be  on  their 
way  towards  the  fort  were,  at   that  moment,  encamped 
withm  a  few  miles  of  it.     Another  night  of  watching  and 
anxiety  succeeded;  but  at  sunrise,  the  Otta was  launched 
their  canoes  and  departed,  while,  immediately  after,  the 
boats  of  the  English  detachment  were  seen  to  approacli 
the  landing-place.     Michillimackuiac  received  a  strong 
garrison,  and  for  a  time,  at  least,  the  traders  were  safe. 

Time  passed   on,  and  the  hostile  feelings  of  the  In- 
dians  towards  the  English   did  not  diminish.     It  neces- 
sarily follows,  'from  the  extremely  loose  character  of  In- 
dian  government,— if  indeed  the  name    government  be 
applicable  at  all,— that  the  separate  members  of  the  same 
tribe  have  little  political  connection,  and  are  often  united 
merely  by  the  social  tie  of  totemship.     Thus  the  Ottawas 
at  L'Arbre  Croche  were  quite  independent  of  those  at 
Detroit.     They  had  a  chief  of  their  own,  who  by  no  means 
acknowledged  the  authority  of  Pontiac,  though  the  high 
reputation  of  this  great  warrior  everywhere  attached  re- 
spect and  influence  to  his  name.     The  same  relations  sub- 
sisted between  the  Ojibwas  of  Michilliniackinac  and  their 
more  southern   tribesmen ;  and^  the  latter  might  declare 
war  and  make  peace  without  at  all  involving  the  former. 
The  name  of  the  Ottawa  chief  at  L'Arbre  Croche  has 
not  survived  in  history  or  tradition.     The  chief  of  the 
Ojibwas,  however,  is  still  remembered  by  the  remnants  of 
his  people,  and  was  the  same  whom  Henry  calls  Minava- 
vana,  or,  as  the   Caividians  entitled  him,  by  way  of  dis- 
tinction, Le  Grand  Sauteur,  or  the  Great   Ojibwa.     He 
lived  in  the  little  village  of  Thunder   Bay,  though  his 
power  was  acknowledged  by  the  Indians  of  the  neighbor- 
ing islands.    That  his  mind  was  of  no  common  order  is 


Bl     < 


WARNINGS  OF  DANGER. 


243 


sufficiently  evinced  by  his  speech  to  Henry  ;  but  he  had 
not  the  commanding  spirit  of  Pontiac.  His  influence 
seems  not  to  have  extended  beyond  his  own  tribe.  He 
could  not,  or,  at  least,  he  did  not,  control  the  erratic 
forces  of  an  Indian  community,  and  turn  them  into  one 
broad  current  of  steady  and  united  energy.  Hence,  in 
the  events  about  to  be  described,  the  natural  instability 
of  the  Indian  character  was  abundantly  displayed. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1763,  Pontiac,  in  compassing 
his  grand  schem'^  of  hostility,  sent,  among  the  rest,  to  the 
Indians  of  Michillimackinac,  inviting  them  to  aid  him  in 
the  war.  His  messengers,  bearing  in  their  hands  the  war- 
belt  of  black  and  purple  wampum,  appeared  before  the 
assembled  warriors,  flung  at  their  feet  a  hatchet  painted 
red,  and  delivered  the  speech  with  which  they  had  been 
charged.  The  warlike  auditory  answered  with  deep 
ejaculations  of  applause,  and,  taking  up  the  blood- red 
hatchet,  pledged  themselves  to  join  in  the  congest.  Be- 
fore the  end  of  May,  news  reached  the  Ojibwas  that  Pon- 
tiac had  already  struck  the  English  at  Detroit.  This 
wrought  them  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement  and  emu- 
lation, and  they  resolved  that  peace  should  last  no  longer. 
Their  numbers  were  at  this  time  more  than  doubled,  by 
several  bands  of  their  wandering  people,  who  had  gath- 
ered at  Michillimackinac,  from  far  and  near,  attracted 
probably  by  rumors  of  impending  war.  Being,  perhaps, 
jealous  of  the  Ottawas,  or  willing  to  gain  all  the  glory 
and  plunder  to  themselves,  they  determined  to  attack  the 
fort,  without  communicating  the  design  to  their  neigbors 
of  L'Arbre  Croche. 

At  this  time  there  were  about  thirty-five  men,  with  thtir 
oflQcers,  in  garrison  at  Michillimackinac*  Warning  of 
the  tempest  that  impended  had  been  clearly  given; 
enough,  had  it  been  heeded,  to  have  averted  the  fatal  dis- 

*  This  appears  from  the  letters  of  Captain  Etherington.  Henry 
states  the  number  at  ninety.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  he  meant  to 
include  ail  the  inhabitants  of  the  fort,  both  soldiers  and  Cana- 
dians, in  his  enumeration. 


<i 


•IVy 


i  t 


244 


THE  CONSPIRACy  OF  PONTIAC. 


J 


7  jrl 


aster.  Several  of  the  Canadians  least  hostile  to  the  Eng- 
lish  had  thrown  out  hints  of  approaching  danger,  and  one 
of  them  had  even  told  Captain  Etherington,  the  command- 
ant, that  the  Indians  had  formed  a  design  to  destroy,  not 
only  his  garrison,  but  all  the  English  on  the  lakes.  With 
a  folly,  of  which,  at  this  period,  there  were  several  par- 
allel instances  among  the  British  officers  in  America, 
Etherinf?jton  not  only  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  what  he  heard, 
but  threatened  to  send  prisoner  to  Detroit  the  next  per- 
son who  should  disturb  the  fort  with  such  tidings. 
Henry,  the  trader,  who  was  at  this  time  in  the  place, 
had  also  seen  occasion  to  distrust  the  Indians ;  but  on 
communicating  his  suspicions  f  e  commandant,  the 
latter  treated  them  with  total  disregard.  Henry  accuses 
himself  of  sharing  this  officer's  infatuation.  That  his  per^ 
son  was  in  danger,  had  bean  plainly  intimated  to  him,  un- 
der the  following  curious  circumstances  : — 

An  Ojibwa  chief,  named  Wawatam,  had  conceived  for 
him  one  of  those  strong  friendly  attachments  which  often 
form  so  pleasing  a  feature  in  the  Indian  character.    It 
was  about  a  year  since  Henry  had  first  met  with  this  man. 
One  morning,  Wawatam  had  entered  his  house,  and  plac- 
ing before  him,  on  the  ground,  a  large  present  of  furs  and 
dried  meat,  delivered  a  speech     .  the  following  effect : 
Early  in  life,  after  the  ancient  usage  of  his  people,  he  had 
withdrawn  to  fast  and  pray  in  solitude,  that  he  might  pro- 
pitiate the  Great  Spirit,  and  learn  the  future  career  marked 
out  for  him.     In  t^le  course  of  his  dreams  and  visions  on 
this  occasion,  it  was  revealed  to  him  that,  in  after  years, 
he  should  meet  a  white  man,  who  should  be  to  him  a 
friend  and  brother.  No  sooner  had  he  seen  Henry,  than 
the  irrepressible  conviction  rose  up  within  him,  that  he 
was  the  man  whom  the  Great  Spirit  had  indicated,  and 
that  the  dream  was  now  fulfilled.     Henry  replied  to  the 
speech  with  suitable  acknowledgments  of  gratitude,  made 
a  present  in  his  turn,  smoked  a  pipe  with  Wawatam,  and, 

as  thfi    la.t.tpr  snnn     nfffir  loff.  fVio    fr»T»f    or^oorJilTr    4?^>,«.^4-    i,:^ 

s     ......    „,,.^,      xv,'i  t,    opvvjviiij      iUiJ^Ut     niS 

Indian  friend  and  brother  altogether.    Many  months  had 


SVE  OF  THE  MASSACRE. 


245 


elapsed  since  the  occurrence  of  this  very  characteristic  inci- 
dent when,  on  the  second  of  June,  Henry's  door  was  pushed 
open  without  ceremony,  and  the  dark  figure  of  Wawatani 
gUded  silently  in.  He  said  that  he  was  just  returned 
from  his  wintering  ground.  Henry,  at  length  recollecting 
him,  inquired  after  the  success  of  his  hunt ;  but  the  Indian, 
without  replying,  sat  down  with  a  dejected  air,  and  ex- 
pressed his  surprise  and  regret  at  finding  his  brother  still 
in  the  fort.  He  said  that  he  was  goirn:  on  the  next  day 
to  the  Sault  Ste.  Marie,  and  that  he  ^v  .shed  Henry  to  go 
with  him.  Ho  then  asked  if  the  English  had  heard  no 
bad  news,  and  said  that  through  the  winter  he  himself 
had  been  much  disturbed  by  the  inging  of  evil  birds. 
Seeing  that  Henry  gave  little  attention  to  what  he  said, 
he  at  length  went  away  with  a  sad  and  mournful  face. 
On  the  next  morning,  he  came  again,  together  with  his 
squow,  and,  offering  the  trader  a  present  of  dried  meat, 
agaii  pressed  him  to  go  with  him,  in  the  afternoon,  to  the 
Sault  Ste.  Marie.  When  Henry  demanded  his  reason  for 
such  urgency,  he  asked  if  his  brother  did  not  know  that 
many  bad  Indians,  who  had  never  shown  themselves  at 
the  fort,  were  encamped  in  the  woods  around  it.  To- 
morrow, he  said,  they  are  coming  to  ask  for  whiskey,  and 
would  all  get  drunk,  so  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to 
remain.  Wawatam  let  fall,  in  addition,  various  other 
hints,  which,  but  for  Henry's  imperfect  knowledge  of  the 
Algonquin  language,  could  hardly  have  failed  to  draw  his 
attention.  As  it  was,  however,  his  friend's  words  were 
spoken  in  vain  ;  and  at  length,  after  long  and  persevering 
efforts,  he  and  his  squaw  took  their  departure,  but  not,  as 
Henry  declares,  before  each  had  let  fall  some  tears. 
Among  the  Indian  women,  the  practice  of  weeping  and 
wailing  is  universal  upon  all  occasions  of  sorrowful  amo- 
tion ;  and  the  kind-hearted  squaw,  as  she  took  down  her 
husband's  lodge,  and  loaded  his  canoe  for  departure,  did 
not  cease  to  sob  and 


vx   xxiv/ttii 


On  this  same  afternoon,  Henry  remembers  that  the  fort 
was  full  of  Indians,  moving  about  among  the  soldiers  with 


ti 


"?  1 


urn 


246 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


a  great  appearance  of  friendship.  Many  of  them  came  to 
his  house,  to  purchase  knives  and  small  hatchets,  often 
asking  to  see  silver  bracelets,  and  other  ornaments,  with 
the  inter^tion,  as  afterwards  appeared,  of  learning  their 
places  of  deposit,  in  order  the  more  easily  to  lay  hand  on 
them  at  the  moment  of  pillage.  As  the  afternoon  drew 
to  a  close,  the  visitors  quietly  went  away ;  and  many  of 
the  unhappy  garrison  saw  for  the  last  tim^  the  sun  go 
down  behind  the  waters  of  Lake  Michigan. 


Ill  §  i. 
If* 


I    i'c 


THE   MASSACRE. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


The  following  morning  was  warm  and  sultry.  It  was 
the  fourth  of  June,  the  birthday  of  King  George.  The 
discipline  of  the  garrison  was  relaxed,  and  some  license 
allowed  to  the  soldiers.  Encamped  in  the  woods,  not  far 
off,  were  a  large  number  of  Ojibwas,  lately  arrived ;  while 
several  bands  of  the  Sac  Indians  from  the  River  Wiscon- 
sin had  also  erected  their  lodges  in  the  vicinity.  Early  in 
the  morning,  many  Ojibwas  came  to  the  fort,  inviting  offi- 
cers and  soldiers  to  come  out  and  see  a  grand  game  of 
hall,  which  was  to  be  played  between  their  nation  and  the 
Sacs.  In  consequence,  the  place  was  soon  deserted  by 
half  its  tenants.  An  outline  of  Michillimackinac,  as  far 
as  tradition  has  preserved  its  general  features,  has  already 
been  given;  and  it  is  easy  to  conceive,  with  sufficient 
accuracy,  the  appearance  it  must  have  presented  on  this 
eventful  morning.  The  houses  and  barracks  were  so 
ranged  as  to  form  a  square,  enclosing  an  extensive  area, 
upon  which  their  doors  all  opened,  while  behind  rose  the 
tall  palisades,  forming  a  large  external  square.  The  pic- 
turesque Canadian  houses,  with  their  rude  porticoes,  and 
projecting  roofs  of  bark,  sufficiently  indicated  the  occupa- 
tions of  their  inhabitants ;  for  birch  canoes  were  lying 
near  many  of  them,  and  fishing  nets  were  stretched  to 
dry  in  the  sun.  Women  and  children  were  moving  about 
the  doors  ;  knots  of  Canadian  voyageurs  reclined  on  the 
ground,  smoking  and  conversing ;  soldiers  were  lounging 
listlessly  at  the  doors  and  windows  of  the  barracks,  or 

cLiOiimg  111  a  viiickvas  liiiuruBy  iiuuut  UJC  area. 

Without  the  fort,  the  scene  was  of  a  very  different 

24T 


jMBMMatKgij 

1 

1 

|: 

^nT 

i  k,i. 

J 

T 

M. 


\ 


248 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


character.  The  gates  were  wide  open,  and  the  soldiers 
were  collected  in  groups  under  the  shadow  of  the  pali- 
sades, watching  the  Indian  ball  play.  Most  of  them  were 
without  arms,  and  mingled  among  them  were  a  great 
number  of  Canadians,  while  a  multitude  of  Indian  squaws 
wrapped  in  blankets,  were  conspicuous  in  the  crowd. 

Captain  Etherington  and  Lieutenant  Leslie  stood  near 
the  gate,  the  former  indulging  his  inveterate  English  pro- 
pensity ;  for,  as  Henry  informs  us,  he  had  promised  the 
Ojibwas  that  he  would  bet  on  their  side  against  the  Sacs. 
Indian  chiefs  and  warriors  were  also  among  the  specta. 
tors,  intent,  apparently,  on  watching  the  game,  but  with 
thoughts,  in  fact,  far  otherwise  employed. 

The  plain  in  front  was  covered  by  the  ball  players. 
The  game  'u  which  they  were  engaged,  called  baggattaway 
by  the  Ojib\^as,  is  still,  as  it  always  has  been,'a  favorite 
with  many  Indian  tribes.     At  either  extremity  of  the 
ground,  a  tall  post  was  planted,  marking  the  stations  of 
the  rival  parties.     The  object  of  each  was  to  defend  its 
own  post,  and  drive  the  ball  to  that  of  its  adversary. 
Hundreds   of  lithe   and  agile  figures  were  leaping  and 
bounding  upon  the  plain.     Each  was  nearly  naked,  his 
loose  black  hair  flying  in  the  wind,  and  each  bore  in  his 
hand  a  bat  of  a  form  peculiar  to  this  game.     At  one  mo- 
ment the  whole  were  crowded  together,  a  dense  throng 
of  combatants,  all  struggling  for  the  ball ;  at  the  next, 
they  were  scattered  again,  and  running  over  the  ground 
like  hounds  in  full  cry.     Each,  in  his  excitement,  yelled 
and   shouted  at  the  height  of  his  voice.     Rushing  and 
striking,  tripping  their  adversaries,  or  hurling  them  to 
the  ground,  they  pursued  the  animating  contest  amid  the 
laughter  and  applause  of  the  spectators.     Suddenly,  from 
the  midst  of  the  multitude,  the  ball  soared  into  the  air, 
and,  descending  in  a  wide  curve,  fell  near  the  pickets  of 
the  fort.     This  was  no  chance  stroke.     It  was  part  of  a 
preconcerted  stratagem  to  insure  the  surprise  and  destruc- 
tion of  the  garrison.     As  if  in  pursuit  of  the  ball,  the 
players  turned  and  came  rushing,  a  maddened  and  tumul- 


ESCAPE  OF  ALEXANDER  HENRY. 


249 


tuous  throng,  towards  the  gate.  In  a  moment  they  had 
reached  it.  The  amazed  English  had  no  time  to  think  or 
act.  The  shrill  cries  of  the  ball  players  were  changed  to 
the  ferocious  war-whoop.  The  warriors  snatched  from 
the  squaws  the  hatchets,  which  the  latter,  with  this  de- 
sign, had  concealed  beneath  their  blankets.  Some  of  the 
Indians  assailed  the  spectators  without,  while  others 
rushed  into  the  fort,  and  all  was  carnage  and  confusion. 
At  the  outset,  several  strong  hands  had  fastened  their 
gripe  upon  Etherington  and  Leslie,  and  led  them  away 
from  the  scene  of  massacre  towards  the  woods.  Within 
the  area  of  the  fort,  the  men  were  slaughtered  without 
mercy.  But  here  the  task  of  description  may  well  be  re- 
signed to  the  simple  and  manly  pen  of  the  trader  Henry. 

"  I  did  not  go  myself  to  see  the  match  which  was  now 
to  be  played  without  the  fort,  because,  there  being  a  canoe 
prepared  to  aepart  on  the  following  day  for  Montreal,  I 
employed  myself  in  writing  letters  to  my  friends,  and 
even  when  a  fellow-trader,  Mr.  Tracy,  happened  to  call 
upon  me,  saying  that  another  canoe  had  just  arrived  from 
Detroit,  and  proposing  that  I  should  go  with  him  to  the 
beach,  to  inquire  the  news,  it  so  happened  that  I  still 
remained  to  finish  my  letters ;  promising  to  follow  Mr. 
Tracy  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes.  Mr.  Tracy  had 
not  gone  more  than  twenty  paces  from  my  door,  when  I 
heard  an  Indian  war-cry,  and  a  noise  of  general  confusion. 

"  Going  instantly  to  my  window,  I  saw  a  crowd  of  In- 
dians, within  the  fort,  furiously  cutting  down  and  scalp- 
ing every  Englishman  they  found :  in  particular,  I  wit- 
nessed ^he  fate  of  Lieutenant  Jamette. 

"  I  had,  in  the  room  in  which  I  was,  a  fowling-piece, 
loaded  with  swan  shot.  This  I  immediately  seized,  and 
held  it  for  a  few  minutes,  waiting  to  hear  the  drum  beat 
to  arms.  In  this  dreadful  interval,  I  saw  several  of  my 
countrymen  fall,  and  more  than  one  struggling  between 
the  knees  of  an  Indian,  who,  holding  him  in  this  manner, 
scalped  him  while  yet  living. 

"At  length,  disappointed  in  the  hope  of  seeing  resist- 


1 1 


^      'ini 


%•;■ 


260 


THE  (X)NSriRACV  OF  I^ONTIAC. 


?-, 


jinco  !mi(!o  to  tho  vnm\y,  am\  h<misIM(»,  of  courHo,  that,  no 
otVort  of  my  own  unasNiNtcd  arm  could  a\'a.il  aKaiiiHl,  four 
liimdrtMl  ImliariM,  I  tliouKdit  only  ol' .seeking  Mlicllfr  a,mi(| 
tho  siau^iitiM'  which  was  raging.  I  ohHcrvtMJ  many  of 
tho  Caimdlan  hiiiahlUuitH  of  (lu^  fort  calmly  looking  on, 
lUMtlior  oppoHinj^'  Mm  Indians  nor  snlVcrinK  injury  ;  and 
fi-om  tins  circumsl^uuT,  I  conceived  a,  hopt*  of  ilnding  se- 
curity in  (heir  houses. 

"  IletwetMi  (he  yard  door  of  my  own  houses  and  that  of 
M.  LauKladt^  my  next  neiKdihor,  (lu>re  was  only  a  low 
fenc(\  over  which  I  easily  crnnbed.  At  my  entrance,  I 
found  the  whole  family  at  (la*  windows,  pi/ing  ut  the 
scene  of  blood  hefon^  them.  I  a<ldr(>ssed  myself  innne- 
dia(<dy  ((»  M.  Langlade,  hcKK^iuK^  (ha(  he  would  pu(.  me 
into  some  place  of  safely,  until  the  heat  of  the  a  IVair  should 
lHM)ver;  an  mjt  of  charity  hy  which  he  might,  perhaps, 
preserve  me  from  the  genci'al  massacn^ ;  hut  while  l' 
uttered  my  petition,  1\I.  I.auKladc,  wh«>  had  looked  for  a 
inoment  at  me,  turned  again  to  the  window,  shrugging 
Ins  sht>ulders,and  intimating  that  he  could  do  nothing  for 

'*  Tins  was  a  moment  for  des{)a'ir ;  hut  the  next  a  Pani  * 
woman,  a  slave  of  M.  Langlade's,  beckoned  nu^  to  follow 
her.  She  bnmght  me  to  a  (U)or,  which  she  opened,  desir- 
ing me  to  enter,  and  telling  me  that  it  led  to  tlu^  garret, 
where  I  must  go  and  conceal  myself.  I  joyfully  obeyed 
her  directions;  and  she,  having  followed  nie  up  to  the 
gj\rret  dinir,  Itu'ked  it  after  me^  and,  with  great  presenci; 
of  mind,  took  awav  the  key. 

''This  shelter  obtained,  if  shelter  f  c(uUd  hope  to  mid 
it,  I  was  naturally  anxious  to  know  what  nught  still  he 

♦This  name  is  commonly  written  Pawnee.  Tho  tribe  who  bore 
it  lived.  Jks  at  tbe  present  day,  npoii  tho  plains  west  of  tlie  Mis- 
sissippi. Tliey  weri>  at  war  witli  many  surrounding  nations,  and, 
among  the  rest,  witli  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  who  often  bnmght  their 
prisoners  to  the  French  settlements  for  sale.  Tt  thus  ImpncMied 
that  Pawnee  slaves  were  tt>  be  found  in  the  pvincipal  families  of 
Detroit  and  Michillimackiuac. 


KfiCAl'K  OF  ALliXANDKW,  HENRY. 


251 


puHHinK  wlllioiit.  'riinmgh  an  Himrtiin-,  wlii(!li  afl'onlcMl 
uw  a  viow  of  Mm  awn  of  Uio  fort,  I  lH5h(d(l,  in  Hhui  'H  the 
foiilcHl  and  moHt  tnrrihlc,  tlu^  fun  "irmH  fcriiinii)lm  of  bar- 
liiiruin  coiKiucrorH,  'IMm  t\iw\  wiwv.  HcMilpcid  and  maiiifhxl ; 
llic  dyiiiK  wtTc  writliin^  ;uid  nliri  -kiii^  utuU'v  th«  unsa- 
liiildd  knilc!  and  lomahawk  ;  and  fnnii  tlui  bodiPH  of  somo, 
ri|»|K'd  ojxiii,  Micir  l)ii(cli(frH  vviiic.  <lriiikin^  ih«  blood, 
H(0(»|)(fd  up  ill  Ui(!  bollow  of  joined  liaiidM,  and  quaffed 
iiiiiid  HhoniH  of  n\"i>  and  vi(!l,ory.  I  waH  Hbakcin  not  only 
Willi  liorror,  but  with  U>nv.  Tlie  HufleringH  whieli  I  wit- 
nessed I  H(M!in(ul  on  tbo  point  of  (>xp(*rien(;injf.  No  long 
(iiiK^  eliip.sed  before,  (!V(U'y  on<5  b(ung  deHtroycMl  who  could 
\r.  foutni,  then?  wa;>  a,  ji^enciral  ery  of  *  All  is  finiHhed.'  At 
(lie  Hiinie  iiiHtant,  I  Imard  Horn<5  of  tin;  Indians  eutur  tho 
lutiise  wluMH^  I  was. 

"The  garnet  was  HCfiii rated  from  Urn  room  below  only 
by  a,  layer  of  Mingle  ])oardH,  at  onee  the  flooring  of  the;  one 
and  the  (^(iiling  of  tl»(!  other,  I  eouVd,  tlu^nffore,  hear  «very- 
lliiiig  that  pa,HH(Ml ;  and  the  Indians  noHoon(;r  came  in  than 
Uicy  in([uir(Hl  wheth(T  or  not  any  P^ngliHhmen  were  in  the 
Iioiise.  M.  La,ngla<le  niplicsd  that '  he  (;ould  not  say,  he  did 
not  know  of  any,'  auHwern  in  which  he  did  not  exceed  the 
(riilh  ;  for  the  Paiii  woman  had  not  only  hidden  me  by 
siciiilth,  but  k(^pt  my  wn^ret  and  her  own.  M.  Langlade 
WHS,  th(irefore,  a.s  f  presume,  as  far  from  a  wish  to  destroy 
]m  aslui  waw  carcihiss  about  saving  mc;,  when  he  added  to 
tluise  answi^rs,  that '  th(!y  might  examine  for  themscjlves, 
(111(1  would  soon  be  satisfied  as  to  the  object  of  their  ques- 
tion.'    Saying  this,  he  brought  them  to  the  garret  door. 

"  The  state  of  my  mind  will  be  imagined.  Arrived  at 
the  door,  some  delay  was  oc^casioned  by  the  absence  of 
tlui  key ;  and  a  few  moments  were  thus  allowed  me,  in 
which  to  look  around  for  a  hiding-place.  In  one  comer 
of  the  garret  was  a  heap  of  those  vessels  of  birch  bark 
used  in  maple  sugar  making. 

"  The  door  was  unlocked  and  onenincr.  and  the  Indians 
as(;ending  the  stairs,  before  I  had  completely  crept  into  a 
small  opening  which  presented  itself  at  one  end  of  the 


?T1 


» 


252 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


heap.  An  instant  after,  four  Indians  entered  the  room, 
all  armed  with  tomahawks,  and  all  besmeared  with  blood' 
upon  every  part  of  their  bodies. 

"  The  die  appeared  to  be  cast.  I  could  scarcely  breathe ; 
but  I  thought  the  throbbing  of  my  heart  occasioned  ii 
noise  loud  enough  to  betray  me.  The  Indians  walked  in 
every  direction  about  the  garret ;  and  one  of  them  ai)- 
proached  me  so  closely,  that,  at  a  particular  moment,  had 
he  put  forth  his  hand,  he  must  have  touched  me.  Still  I 
remained  undiscovered;  a  circumstance  to  which  the 
dark  color  of  my  clothes,  and  the  want  of  light,  in  a  room 
which  had  no  window  in  the  corner  in  which  I  was,  must 
have  contributed.  In  a  word,  after  taking  several  turns 
in  the  room,  during  which  they  told  M.  Langlade  how 
many  they  had  killed,  and  how  many  scalps  they  had 
taken,  they  returned  down  stairs,  and  I,  with  sensations 
not  to  be  expressed,  heard  the  door,  which  was  the 
barrier  between  me  and  my  fate,  locked  for  the  second 
time. 

«  There  was  a  feather  bed  on  the  floor ;  and  on  this, 
exhausted  as  I  was  by  the  agitation  of  my  mind,  I  threw 
myself  down  and  fell  asleep.  In  this  state  I  remained 
till  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  when  I  was  awrkened  by  a 
second  opening  of  the  door.  The  person  that  now  entered 
was  M.  Langlade's  wife,  who  was  much  surprised  at  find- 
ing me,  but  advised  me  not  to  be  uneasy,  observing  that 
the  Indians  had  killed  most  of  the  English,  but  that  she 
hoped  I  might  myself  escape.  ^  A  shower  of  rain  having 
begun  to  fall,  she  had  come  to  stop  a  hole  in  the  roof. 
On  her  going  away,  I  begged  her  to  send  me  a  little  water 
to  drink,  which  she  did. 

"  As  night  was  now  advancing,  I  continued  to  lie  on 
the  bed,  ruminating  on  my  condition,  but  unable  to  dis- 
cover a  resource  from  which  I  could  hope  for  life.  A 
flight  to  Detroit  had  no  probable  chance  of  success.  The 
distance  from  Michillimaokinac  was  four  hundred  miles ; 
I  was  without  provisions,  and  the  whole  length  of  the 
road  lay  through  Indian  countries,  countries  of  an  enemy 


I?! 


ESCAPE  OF  ALEXANDER  HENRY. 


253 


in  arms,  where  the  first  man  whom  I  should  meet  would 
kill  me.  To  stay  where  I  was,  threatened  nearly  the  same 
issue.  As  before,  fatigue  of  mind,  and  not  tranquillity, 
suspended  my  cares,  and  procured  me  farther  sleep. 

"  The  respite  which  sleep  afforded  me  during  the  night 
was  put  an  end  to  by  the  return  of  morning.  I  was  again 
on  the  rack  of  apprehension.  At  sunrise,  I  heard  the 
family  stirring;  and,  presently  after,  Indian  voices,  in- 
forming M.  Langlade  that  they  had  not  found  my  hapless 
self  among  the  dead,  and  they  supposed  me  to  be  some- 
where concealed.  M.  Langlade  appeared,  from  what  fol- 
lowed, to  be,  by  this  time,  acquainted  with  the  place  of 
my  retreat;  of  which,  no  doubt,  he  had  been  informed 
by  his  wife.  The  poor  woman,  as  soon  as  the  Indians 
mentioned  me,  declared  to  her  husband,  in  the  French 
tongue,  that  he  should  no  longer  keep  me  in  his  house, 
but  deliver  me  up  to  my  pursuers  ;  giving  as  a  reason  for 
this  measure,  that  should  the  Indians  discover  his  in- 
strumentality in  my  concealment,  they  might  revenge  it 
on  her  children,  and  that  it  was  better  that  I  should  die 
than  they.  M.  Langlade  resisted,  at  first,  this  sentence 
of  his  wife,  but  soon  suffered  her  to  prevail,  informing  the 
Indians  that  he  had  been  told  I  was  in  his  house ;  that  I 
had  come  there  without  his  knowledge,  and  that  he  would 
put  me  into  their  hands.  This  was  no  sooner  expressed 
than  he  began  to  ascend  the  stairs,  the  Indians  following 
upon  his  heels. 

"  I  now  resigned  myself  to  the  fate  with  which  I  was 
menaced;  and  regarding  every  effort  at  concealment  as 
vain,  I  arose  from  the  bed,  and  presented  myself  full  in 
view  to  the  Indians,  who  were  entering  the  room.  They 
were  all  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  and  entirely  naked,  ex- 
cept about  the  middle.  One  of  them,  named  Wenniway, 
whom  I  had  previously  known,  and  who  was  upwards  of 
six  feet  in  height,  had  his  entire  face  and  body  covered 
with  charcoal  and  grease,  only  that  a  white  spot,  of  two 
inches  in  diameter,  encircled  either  eye.  This  man,  walk- 
ing up  to  me,  seized  me,  with  one  hand,  by  the  collar  of 


55 


fl 


Msl 


254 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


i'f,> 


the  coat,  while  in  tlie  other  he  held  a  largo  rarving-knife 
as  if  to  plunge  it  into  my  breast ;  hia  eyes,  meanwhile' 
were  fixed  stead f;L.f,!j  ,u.  mine.  At  length,  after  some 
seconds  of  the  most  aiixious  suspense,  he  droi)ped  his  arm 
saying,  '  I  wont  kill  you  I '  To  this  he  added,  that  ho 
Jiad  frequently  engaged  in  wars  against  the  English,  and 
had  brought  away  many  scalps  ;  that,  on  a  certain  occasion, 
he  had  lost  a  brother,  whose  name  was  Musinigon,  and 
that  I  should  be  called  after  him. 

"A  reprieve,  upon  any  terms,  placed  me  among  the  liv- 
mg,  and  gave  me  back  the  sustaining  voice  of  hope  ;  but 
Wenniway  ordered  me  downstairs,  and  there  informing 
me  that  I  was  to  be  taken  to  his  cabin,  where,  and  indeed 
everywhere  else,  the  Indians  were  all  mad  with  liquor, 
death  again  was  threatened,  and  not  as  possible  only,  but 
as  certain.  I  i^ientioned  my  fears  on  this  subject  to  M 
Langlade,  begging  him  to  represent  the  danger  to  my 
master.  M.  Langlade,  in  this  instance,  did  not  withhold 
his  compassion,  and  Wenniway  immediately  consented 
that  I  should  remain  where  I  was,  until  he  found  another 
opportunity  to  take  me  away." 

Scarcely,  however,  had  he  been  gone  an  hour,  when  an 
Indian  came  to  the  house,  and  directed  Henry  to  follow 
him  to  the  Ojibwa  camp.  Henry  knew  this  man,  who 
was  largely  in  his  debt,  and  some  time  before,  on  the 
trader's  asking  him  for  payment,  the  Indian  had  declared, 
m  a  significant  tone,  that  he  would  pay  him  soon.  There 
seemed  at  present  good  ground  to  suspect  his  intention; 
but,  having  no  choice,  Henry  was  obliged  to  follow  him' 
The  Indian  led  the  way  out  of  the  gate ;  but,  instead  of 
going  towards  the  camp,  he  moved  with  a  quick  step  in 
the  direction  of  the  bushes  and  sand-hills  behind  the  fort. 
At  this,  Henry's  suspicions  were  confirmed.  He  refused 
to  proceed  farther,  and  plainly  told  his  conductor  that  he 
believed  he  meant  to  kill  him.  The  Indian  coolly  replied, 
that  he  was  quite  right  in  thinking  so,  and  at  the  same 

time.  Sftizincr  fhp  nriQOPQT.  Kv  ih'^    a^^-^     _,„-•-_  J   I-'-    1       .  <• 

-^ _  —  i-.  .,^,jiz^,i  uy  ixic  aim,  riusuu  nis  KHiie  ro 

Strike  him  in  the  breast.    Henry  parried  the  blow,  flung 


ADVENTURES  OF  HENRY. 


255 


I 


the  Indian  from  him,  and  ran  for  \m  life.  lie  gained  the 
giite  of  the  fort,  his  enemy  close  at  his  heels,  and,  seeing 
Wenniway  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  area,  called  upon 
liini  for  protection.  The  chief  ordered  the  Indian  to  de- 
sist ;  but  the  latter,  who  was  foaming  at  the  mouth  with 
nige,  still  continued  to  pursue  Henry  vainly  striking  at 
hi  111  with  his  knife.  Seeing  the  door  of  Langlade's  house 
wide  open,  the  trader  darted  in,  and  at  length  found  him- 
self in  safety.  He  retired  once  more  to  his  garret,  and 
lay  down,  feeling,  as  he  declares,  a  sort  of  conviction  that 
no  Indian  had  power  to  harm  him. 

This  confidence  was  somewhat  shaken  when,  early  in 
the  night,  he  was  startled  from  sleep  by  the  opening  of  the 
door.  A  light  gleamed  in  upon  him,  and  he  was  sunmioned 
to  descend.  He  did  so,  when,  to  his  surprise  and  joy,  he 
found,  in  the  room  below.  Captain  Etherington,  Lieu- 
tenant Leslie,  and  Mr.  Bostwick,  a  trader,  together  with 
Father  Jonois,  the  Jesuit  priest  from  L'Arbre  Croche. 
The  Indians  were  bent  on  enjoying  that  night  a  grand 
debauch  upon  the  liquor  they  had  seized ;  and  the  chiefs, 
well  knowing  the  extreme  danger  to  which  the  prisoners 
would  be  exposed  during  these  revels,  had  conveyed  them 
all  into  the  fort,  and  placed  them  in  charge  of  the  Cana- 
dians. 

Including  officers,  soldiers,  and  traders,  they  amounted 
to  about  twenty  men,  this  handful  being  all  that  had 
escaped  the  massacre. 

When  Henry  entered  the  room,  he  found  his  three  com- 
panions in  misfortune  engaged  in  earnest  debate.  These 
men  had  supped  full  of  horrors ;  yet  they  were  almost  on 
the  point  of  risking  a  renewal  of  the  bloodshed  from  which 
they  had  just  escaped.  The  temptation  was  a  strong  one. 
The  fort  was  this  evening  actually  in  the  hands  of  the 
white  men  The  Indians,  with  their  ordinary  reckless- 
ness and  improvidence,  had  neglected  even  to  place  a 
guard  within  the  palisades.     They  were  now,  one  and  all, 

•-   ii----   -- —,.,  J  — n-u  i;^n<-vr»  nr,A  fl^o  frk-rf,  "Was  nr^pimipfl 

111  their  caiiijj,  luu-u  witu  iiv|u.ui,  cnx^i.  txxv.  i^-^v  wo.. — ^ 

by  twenty  Englishmen,  and  about  three  hundred  Cana- 


'  i 


256 


H  > 


f1Vi 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


dians,  principally  voyagoiirs.  To  close  the  gates  and 
set  the  Indians  at  deliance,  seemed  no  difficult  matter 
It  might  have  been  attemrted,  but  for  the  dissuasions  of 
the  Jesuit  who  had  act^d  throughout  the  part  of  a  ti-ue 
iriend  of  humanity,  and  who  now  strongly  represented 
the  probability  that  the  Canadians  would^ove  Veac^I." 
ous,  and  the  certainty  that  a  failure  would  involve  de- 
struction to  every  Englishman  in  the  place.  The  idea 
was  therefore  abandoned,  and  Capfaiin  Etherington,  with 
his  companions,  that  night  shared  Henry's  garret,  where 
they  passed  the  time  in  condoling  with  each  other  on 
their  common  misfortune. 

A  party  of  Indians  came  to  the  house  in  the  morning 
and  ordered  Henry  to  follow  them  out.     The  weather  Iiad 
changed,  and  a  cold  storm  had  set  in.     In  the  dreary  and 
forlorn  area  of  ^  the  fort  were  a  few  of  the  Indian  con- 
querors,  though  the  main  body  were  still  in  their  camp 
not  yet  recovered  from  the  effects  of  their  last  night's 
carouse.     Henry's  conductors  led  him  to  a  house,  where 
m  a  room  almost  dark,  he  saw  two  traders  and  a  soldiei' 
imprisoned.     They  were  released,  and  directed  to  follow 
the  party.     The  whole  then  proceeded  together  to  the  lake 
shore  where  they  were  to  embarl:  for  the  Isles  du  Castor 
A  chil  mg  wind  blew  strongly  from  the  north-east,  and 
the  lake   was   covered  with  mists,  and  tossing  angrilv 
Henry  stood  shivering  on  the  beach,  with  no  other  upper 
garment  than  a  shirt,  drenched  with  the  cold  rain     He 
asked  Langlade,  who  was  near  him,  for  a  blanket,  which 
the  latter,  with  cold-blooded  inhumanity,  refused  to  fur- 
nish unless  security  was  given  for  payment.     Another 
Canadian  proved  more  merciful,  and  Henry  received  a 
covering  from  the  weather.     With  his  three  companions, 
guarded  by  seven  Indians,  he  embarked  in  the  canoe,  the 
soldier  being  tied  by  his  neck  to  one  of  the  cross-bars  of 
the  vessel.     The  thick  mists  and  the  tempestuous  weather 
compelled  them  to  keep  along  the  shore,  close  beneath  the 
wet  dripping  forests.     In  this  manner  ih^^r  h^A  ^^„^„„j.j 
about  eighteen  miles,  and   were  approaching   L'Arbre 


QUARRELS  OF  THE  CONQUERORS. 


257 


Croche,  when  an  Ottawa  Indian  came  out  of  the  woods, 
and  called  to  them  frr,,>  *\  beach,  hiquiiing  the  news, 
and  asking  who  weve  Uk-''  prisoners.  Some  conversation 
followed,  in  the  coiuS"  o^  which  the  canoe  approached 
the  shore,  where  tlu  v.'v  jr  was  quite  shallow.  All  at 
once,  a  loud  yell  W'shend,  and  a  hundred  Ottawa s,  rising 
from  among  the  trv  '  >  )d  bushes,  rushed  into  the  water, 
and  seized  upon  the  canoe  and  prisoners.  The  astonished 
Ojibwas  remonstrated  in  vain.  The  four  Englishman 
were  Uiken  from  them,  and  led  in  safety  to  the  shore. 
Good  will  to  the  prisoners,  however,  had  by  no  means 
prompted  the  Ottawas  to  this  very  unexpected  proceeding. 
They  were  jealous  and  angry  that  the  Ojibwas  should 
have  taken  the  fort  without  giving  them  an  opportunity 
to  share  in  the  i-Huider ;  and  they  now  chose  this  sum- 
mary mode  of  asserting  their  rights. 

The  chiefs,  however,  shook  Henry  and  his  companions 
by  the  hand,  professing  great  good  will,  assuring  tliem, 
at  the  same  time,  that  the  Ojibwas  were  carrying  them 
to  the  Isles  du  Castor  merely  to  kill  and  eat  them.  The 
four  prisoners,  the  sport  of  so  many  chanf  ing  fortunes, 
soon  found  themselves  embarked  in  an  Ottawa  canoe,  and 
on  their  way  back  to  Michillimackinac.  They  were  not 
alone.  A  flotilla  of  canoes  accompanied  them,  bearing  a 
great  number  of  Ottawa  warriors ;  and  before  the  day 
was  over,  the  whole  had  arrived  at  the  fort.  At  this 
time,  the  principal  Ojibwa  encampment  was  near  the 
woods,  in  full  sight  of  the  landing-place.  Its  occupants, 
astonished  at  this  singular  movement  on  the  part  of  their 
rivals,  stood  looking  on  in  silent  amazement,  while  the 
Ottawa  warriors,  well  armed,  filed  into  the  fort,  and  took 
possession  of  it. 

This  conduct  is  not  difficult  to  explain,  when  we  take 
into  consideration  the  peculiarities  of  the  Indian  char- 
acter. Pride  and  jealousy  are  always  strong  and  active 
elements  in  it.  The  Ottawas  deemed  themselves  grossly 
insulted  because  the  Ojibwas  had  undertaken  an  en- 
t^^-rprise  of  such  importance  without  consulting  them,  or 
17 


1 


25.^ 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


|ihd! 


i>iM 


ankiiig  their  assistance.  It  may  be  added,  that  tlie  In- 
dians of  L'Arbro  Oroche  were  somewhat  Ijss  hostile  to 
the  English  tlian  the  neighl)oring  tribes ;  for  the  great 
influenee  of  the  priest  Jonois  sereins  always  to  have  been 
exerttnl  on  the  side  of  peace  and  friendship. 

The  English  prisoners  looked  upon  the  new-comers  as 
champions  and  protectors,  jind  conceived  hopes  from  their 
interference  not  destined  to  be  fully  realized.  On  the 
morning  after  their  arrival,  the  Ojibwa  chiefs  invited  the 
principal  mtn  of  the  Ottawas  to  hold  a  council  with  them 
in  a  building  within  the  fort.  They  placed  upon  the 
floor  a  valuable  present  of  goods,  which  were  part  of  the 
plunder  they  had  t^iken  ;  ind  their  great  war-chief,  Min- 
avavana,  who  had  conducted  the  attack,  rose  and  addressed 
the  Ottawas, 

Tlieir  conduct,  he  said,  had  greatly  surprised  him. 
They  had  betrayed  the  common  cause,  and  opposed  the 
will  of  the  Great  Spirit,  who  had  decreed  that  every  Eng- 
lishman must  die.  Excepting  them,  all  the  Indians  had 
raised  the  hatchet.  Pontiac  had  taken  Detroit,  and  every 
other  fort  had  also  been  destroyed.  The  English  were 
meeting  with  destruction  throughout  the  whole  world, 
and  the  King  of  France  was  awakened  from  his  sleep. 
He  exliortcd  them,  in  conclusion,  no  longer  to  espouse 
the  cause  of  the  English,  but,  like  their  brethren,  to  lift 
the  hatchet  against  them. 

When  Minavavana  had  concluded  his  speech,  the 
council  adjourned  until  the  next  day  ;  a  custom  common 
among  Indians,  in  order  that  the  auditors  may  have  time 
to  ponder  with  due  deliberation  upon  what  they  have 
heard.  At  the  next  meeting,  the  Ottawas  expressed  a 
readiness  to  concur  with  the  views  of  the  Ojibwas,  Thus 
the  difference  between  the  two  tribes  was  at  length  am- 
icably adjusted.  The  Ottawas  returned  to  the  Ojibwas 
some  of  the  prisoners  whom  they  had  taken  from  them, 
still,  however,  retaining  the  officers  and  several  of  the 
soldiers.  These  they  soon  after  carried  to  L'Arbre 
Croehe,  where  they  were  treated  with  kindness,  1^r/^h^ 


-kjuj    I/-*- ^-^^ 


abb 


I 


TREATMENT  OF  THE  PRISONERS. 


259 


the 


iy 


owing  to  the  influence  of  Father  Jonois.  The  priest  went 
down  to  Detroit  with  a  letter  from  Captain  Etherington, 
acquainting  Major  Gladwyn  with  the  loss  of  Michillimack- 
inac  and  entreating  that  a  force  might  be  sent  immedi- 
ately to  his  aid.  The  letter,  as  we  have  seen,  was  safely 
delivered ;  but  Gladwyn  was,  of  course,  unable  to  render 
the  required  assistance. 

Though  the  Ottawas  and  Ojibwas  had  come  to  terms, 
they  still  looked  on  each  other  with  distrust,  and  it  is 
said  that  the  former  never  forgot  the  slight  that  had  been 
put  upon  them.  The  Ojibwas  took  the  prisoners  who 
had  been  returned  to  them  from  the  fort,  and  carried 
them  to  one  of  their  small  villages,  which  stood  near  the 
sliore,  at  no  great  distance  to  the  south-east.  Among  the 
other  lodges  was  a  large  one,  of  the  kind  often  seen  in 
Indian  villages,  erected  for  use  on  public  occasions,  such 
as  dances,  feasts,  or  councils.  It  was  now  to  serve  as  a 
prison.  The  soldiers  were  bound  together,  two  and  two, 
and  farther  secured  by  long  ropes  tied  round  their  necks, 
and  fastened  to  the  pole  which  supported  the  lodge  in 
the  centre.  Henry  and  the  other  traders  escaped  this 
rigorous  treatment.  The  spacious  lodge  was  aoon  filled 
with  Indians,  who  came  to  look  at  their  captives,  and 
gratify  themselves  by  deriding  and  jeering  at  them.  At 
the  head  of  the  lodge  sat  the  great  war-chief  Minavavana, 
side  by  side  with  Henry's  master,  Wenniway.  Things 
had  remained  for  some  time  in  this  position,  when  Henry 
observed  an  Indian  stooping  to  enter  at  the  low  aperture 
which  served  for  a  door,  and,  to  his  great  joy,  recognized 
his  friend  and  brother,  Wawatam,  whom  he  had  last  seen 
on  the  day  before  the  massacre.  Wawatam  said  nothing ; 
but,  as  he  passed  the  trader,  he  shook  him  by  the  hand, 
in  token  of  encouragement,  and,  proceeding  to  the  head 
of  the  lodge,  sat  down  with  Wenniway  and  the  war-chief. 
After  he  had  smoked  with  them  for  a  while  in  silence, 
he  rose  and  went  out  again.  Very  soon  he  came  back, 
followed  by  his  squaw,  who  brought  in  her  hands  a  valu- 
B auic    preseiii;,    wmcu    »uc;    laiw.  iii*    uiu    iuul   vi    tuu    two 


I 


\ 


260 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


chiefs.     Wawatam  then  addressed  them  in  the  foUowinfr 
speech : — 

« Friends  and  relations,  what  is  it  that  I  shall  say  ^ 
You  know  what  I  feel.  You  all  have  friends,  and  brothers, 
and  children,  whom  as  yourselves  you  love  ;  and  you,— 
what  would  you  experience,  did  you,  like  me,  behold  your 
dearest  friend— your  brother— in  the  condition  of  a  slave ; 
a  slave,  exposed  every  moment  to  insult,  and  to  menaces 
of  death?  This  case,  as  you  all  know,  is  mine.  See 
there,  [pointing  to  Henry,]  my  friend  and  brother  among 
slaves, — himself  a  slave  ! 

«  You  all  well  know  that,  long  before  the  war  began, 
I  adopted  him  as  my  brother.  From  that  moment,  he 
became  one  of  my  family,  so  that  no  change  of  circum- 
stances could  break  the  cord  which  fastened  us  together. 
"  He  is  my  brother ;  and  because  I  am  your  relation, 
he  is  therefore  your  relation  too ;  and  how,  being  your 
relation,  can  he  be  your  slave  ? 

"  On  the  day  on  which  the  war  began,  you  were  fearful 
lest,  on  this  very  account,  I  should  reveal  your  secret. 
You  requested,  therefore,  that  I  would  leave  the  fort,  and 
even  cross  the  lake.  I  did  so;  but  I  did  it  with  reluc- 
tance. I  did  it  with  reluctance,  notwithstanding  that 
you,  Minavavana,  who  had  the  command  in  this  enter- 
prise, gave  me  your  promise  that  you  would  protect  my 
friend,  delivering  him  from  all  danger,  and  giving  him 
safely  to  me. 

"The  performance  of  this  promise  I  now  claim.  I 
come  not  with  empty  hands  to  ask  it.  You,  Minavavana, 
best  know  whether  or  not,  as  it  respects  yourself,  you 
have  kept  your  word;  but  I  bring  these  goods  to  buy  off 
every  claim  which  any  man  among  you  all  may  have  on 
my  brother  as  his  prisoner."  * 

To  this  speech  the  war-chief  returned  a  favorable 
answer.    W  watam's  request  was  acceded  to,  the  present 

*  Henry,  Travels,  102.  The  strict  authenticity  of  this  very  in- 
teresting book  has  never  been  questioned.  Henry  was  living  at 
Montreal  as  late  as  the  year  1809= 


CANNIBALISM. 


261 


was  accepted,  and  the  prisoner  released.  Henry  soon 
found  himself  in  the  lodge  of  his  friend,  where  furs  were 
spread  for  him  to  lie  upon,  food  and  drink  brought  for 
his  refreshment,  and  everything  done  to  promote  his 
comfort  that  Indian  hospitality  could  suggest.  As  he  lay 
in  the  lodge,  on  the  dt|,y  after  his  release,  he  heard  a  loud 
noise  from  within  the  prison-house,  which  stood  close  at 
hand,  and,  looking  through  a  crevice  in  the  bark,  he  saw 
the  dead  bodies  of  seven  soldiers  dragged  out.  It  ap- 
peared that  a  noted  chief  had  ju^t  arrived  from  his  win- 
tering ground.  Having  come  too  late  to  take  part  in  the 
grand  achievement  of  his  countrymen,  he  was  anxious  to 
manifest  to  all  present  his  entire  approval  of  what  had 
been  done,  and  with  this  design  he  had  entered  the  lodge 
and  d^espatched  seven  of  the  prisoners  with  his  knife. 

The  Indians  are  not  habitual  cannibals.  After  a  vic- 
tory, however,  it  often  happens  that  the  bodies  of  their 
enemies  are  consumed  at  a  formal  war-feast — a  supersti- 
tious rite,  adapted,  as  they  think,  to  increase  their  cour- 
age and  hardihood.  Such  a  feast  took  place  on  the 
present  occasion,  and  most  of  the  chiefs  partook  of  it, 
though  some  of  them,  at  least,  did  so  with  repugnance. 

About  a  week  had  now  elapsed  since  the  massacre, 
and  a  revulsion  of  feeling  began  to  take  place  among  the 
Indians.  Up  to  this  time  all  had  been  triumph  and  ex- 
ultation; but  they  now  began  to  fear  the  consequences 
of  their  conduct,  -ndefinite  and  absurd  rumors  of  an 
approaching  at  ack  from  the  English  were  afloat  in  the 
camp,  and,  in  iheir  ^-rowing  uneasiness,  they  thought  it 
expedient  to  shift  their  position  to  some  point  more 
capable  cl  defence.  Three  hundred  and  fifty  waxriors, 
with  tixe^r  familirs  and  household  effects,  embarked  in 
cargoes  Ayi  liie  iMlanQ  of  Michillimackinac,  se  ven  or  eight 
miles  distant.  Wa\vatam,  with  his  friend  Henry,  was  of 
th^  number.  Strong  gusts  of  wind  came  from  the  north, 
and  when  the  fleet  of  canoes  were  h  If  way  to  the  islard, 
it  blew  a  gale,  ;.he  waves  pitching  and  tossirg  -^-'ith  such 
violence,  that  the  frail  and  iioa vy-ladcn  vessels  w 


Ll^^' 


II 


262 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


endangered.  Many  voices  were  raised  in  prayer  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  a  dog  was  thrown  into  the  lake,  as  a 
sacrifice  to  aj)pease  the  angry  manitou  of  the  waters.  The 
canoes  weathered  the  storm,  and  soon  drew  near  the 
island.  Two  squaws,  in  the  same  canoe  with  Henry, 
raised  their  voices  in  mournful  wailing  and  lamentation. 
Late  events  had  made  him  sensible  to  every  impression 
of  horror,  and  these  dismal  cries  seemed  ominous  of  some 
new  disaster,  until  he  learned  that  they  were  called  forth 
by  the  recollection  of  dead  relatives,  whose  graves  were 
visible  upon  a  neighboring  point  of  the  shore. 

The  Island  of  Michillimackinac,  or  Mackinaw,  owing 
to  its  situation,  its  beauty,  and  the  fish  which  the  sur- 
rounding waters  supplied,  had  long  been  a  favorite  resort 
of  Indians.  It  is  about  three  miles  wide.  So  clear  are 
the  waters  of  Lake  Huron,  which  wash  its  shores,  that 
one  may  count  the  pebbles  at  an  incredible  depth.  The 
island  is  fenced  round  by  white  limestone  cliffs,  beauti- 
fully contrasting  with  the  green  foliage  that  half  covers 
them,  and  in  the  centre  the  land  rises  in  woody  heights. 
The  rock  which  forms  its  foundation  assumes  fantastic 
shapes— natural  bridges,  caverns,  or  sharp  pinnacles, 
which,  at  this  day,  are  pointed  out  as  the  curiosities  of 
the  region.  In  many  of  the  caves  have  been  found  quan- 
tities of  human  bones,  as  if,  at  some  period,  the  island 
had  served  as  a  grand  depository  for  the  dead ;  yet  of 
these  remains  the  present  race  of  Indians  can  give  no  ac- 
count. Legends  and  superstitions  attached  a  mysterious 
celebrity  to  the  place,  and  here  it  was  said  the  fairies  of 
Indian  tradition  might  often  be  seen  dancing  upon  the 
white  rocks,  or  basking  in  the  moonlight.* 

*  Tradition,  preserved  by  Henry  Conner,  Esq.  See  also  School- 
craft, Algic  Researches,  II.  159. 

"  Their  tradition  concerning  the  name  of  this  little  island  is 
curious.  They  say  that  Micliapous,  the  chief  of  spirits,  sojourned 
long  in  that  vicinity.  They  believed  that  a  mountain  on  the 
border  of  the  lake  was  the  place  of  his  abode,  and  they  called  it 
by  his  name.  It  was  here,  say  they,  that  he  first  instructed  man 
to  fabricafce  nets  for  taking  fish,  and  where  he  has  collected  the 


■m::Mm. 


i 


ISLAND  OF  MACKINAW. 


263 


I 


The  Indians  landed  at  the  margin  of  a  little  bay.  Un- 
lading their  canoes,  and  lifting  them  high  and  dry  upon  the 
beach,  they  began  to  erect  their  lodges,  and  before  night 
had  completed  the  work.  Messengers  arrived  on  th^  next 
(lay  from  Pontiac,  informing  them  that  he  was  besieging 
Detroit,  and  urging  them  to  come  to  his  aid.  But  their 
warlike  ardor  had  well-nigh  died  out.  A  senseless  alarm 
prevailed  among  them,  and  they  now  thought  more  of 
securing  their  own  safety  than  of  injuring  the  enemy.  A 
vigilant  watch  was  kept  up  all  day,  and  the  unusual  pre- 
caution taken  of  placing  guards  at  night.  Their  fears, 
however,  did  not  prevent  them  from  seizing  two  English 
trading  canoes,  which  had  come  from  Montreal  by  way  of 
the  Ottawa.  Among  the  booty  found  in  them  was  a 
quantity  of  whiskey,  and  a  general  debauch  was  the  imme- 
diate result.  As  night  closed  in,  the  dolorous  chanting  of 
drunken  songs  was  heard  from  within  the  lodges,  the  pre- 
lude of  a  scene  of  riot ;  and  Wawatam,  knowing  that  his 
friend  Henry's  life  would  be  in  danger,  privately  led  him 
out  of  the  camp  to  a  cavern  in  the  hills,  towards  the  in- 
terior of  th'^  island.  Here  the  trader  spent  the  night,  in 
a  solitude  made  doubly  dreary  by  a  sense  of  his  forlorn 
and  perilous  situation.  On  waking  in  the  morning,  he 
found  that  he  had  been  lying  on  human  bones,  which 
covered  the  floor  of  the  cave.  The  place  had  anciently 
served  as  a  charnel-house.     Here  he  spent  another  solitary 

greatest  quantity  of  these  finny  inhabitants  of  the  waters.  On 
the  island  he  left  spirits,  named  Iniakinakos ;  and  from  these 
aerial  possessors  it  has  received  the  appellation  of  Michillimakinac. 
"When  the  savages,  in  those  quarters,  make  a  feast  of  fish, 
they  invoke  tlip  pints  of  the  island,  thank  them  for  their  bounty, 
and  entreat  t'jiom  to  continue  their  protection  to  their  families. 
They  demand  of  Laem  to  preserve  their  nets  and  canoes  from  the 
swellirg  and  destructive  billovvs,  when  the  lakes  are  agitated  by 
storms.  All  who  assist  in  the  cer'^mony  lengthen  their  ^/oices 
together,  which  is  an  act  of  gratitude.  In  the  observance  of  this 
duty  of  their  raligion,  they  were  formerly  very  punctual  and 
scrupulous ;  but  the  French  rallied  them  so  much  upon  the  sub- 
ject, that  they  became  ashamed  to  practise  it  openly." — Heriot, 
Travels  in  Canada,  185. 


:.-     ^N^a» 


264 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Im 


m 


night,  before  his  friend  came  to  apprise  him  that  he  might 
return  with  safety  to  the  camp. 

Famine  soon  began  to  be  felt  among  the  Indians,  who 
were  sometimes  without  food  for  days  together.  No 
comphiints  were  heard ;  but  with  faces  blackened,  in  sign 
of  sorrow,  they  patiently  endured  the  privation  with  that 
resignation,  under  inevitable  suffering,  which  distinguishes 
the  whole  Indian  race.  They  were  at  length  coxnpelled  to 
cross  over  to  the  north  shore  of  Lake  Huron,  where  flsli 
were  more  abundant,  and  here  they  remained  until  the 
end  of  summer,  when  they  gradually  dispersed,  each 
family  repairing  to  its  winter  hunting-grounds.  Henry, 
painted  and  attired  like  an  Indian,  followed  his  friend 
Wawatam,  and  spent  a  lonely  winter  among  the  frozen 
forests,  hunting  the  bear  and  moose  for  subsistence.* 

The  posts  of  ^reen  Bay  and  the  Sault  8te.  Marie  did  not 
share  the  fate  of  Michillimackinac.     During  the  preceding 

*  The  following  description  of  Minavavana,  or  the  Grand 
Sauteur,  who  was  the  leader  of  the  Ojibwas  at  the  massacre  of 
Michillimackinac,  is  drawn  from  Carver's  Travels  :  — 

"The  first  I  accosted  were  Chipeways,  inhabiting  near  the 
Ottowaw  lakes  ;  who  received  me  with  great  cordiality,  and  shook 
me  by  the  hand,  in  token  of  friendship.  At  some  little  distance 
behind  these  stood  a  chief  remarkably  tall  and  well  made,  but  of 
so  stern  an  aspect,  that  the  most  undaunted  person  could  not  be- 
hold him  without  feeling  some  degree  of  terror.  He  seemed  to 
have  passed  the  meridian  of  life,  and  by  the  mode  in  which  he 
was  painted  and  tatowed,  I  discovered  that  he  was  of  high  rank. 
However,  I  approached  him  in  a  courteous  manner,  and  expected 
to  have  met  vith  the  same  reception  I  had  done  from  the  other  ; 
but,  to  my  great  surprise,  he  withheld  his  hand,  and  looking 
fiercely  at  me,  said,  in  the  Chipeway  tongue,  '  Caivin  nishisfmi 
saganosh;  that  is,  '  The  English  are  no  good.'  As  he  had  his 
tomahawk  in  his  hand,  I  expected  that  this  laconick  sentence 
would  have  been  followed  by  a  blow  ;  to  prevent  which  I  drew  a 
pistol  from  my  belt,  and,  holding  it  in  a  careless  position,  passed 
close  by  him,  to  let  him  see  I  was  not  afraid  of  him.  .  . 
Since  I  came  to  England,  I  have  been  informed,  that  the  Grand 
Sautor,  having  rendered  himself  more  and  more  disgustful  to  the 
English  by  his  inveterate  enmity  towards  them,  was  at  length 
stabbed  in  his  tent,  as  he  encamped  near  Michillimackinac, 
by  a  trader."— Carver-  90- 


GREEN  BAY. 


265 


winter,  Ste.  Marie  had  been  partially  destroyed  by  an 
accidental  fire,  and  was  therefore  abandoned,  the  garrison 
withdrawing  to  Michillimack'nac,  where  many  of  them 
perished  in  the  massacre.  Iiie  fort  at  Green  Bay  first 
received  an  English  garrison  in  the  year  1761,  at  the  same 
time  with  the  other  posts  of  this  region.  The  force  con- 
sisted of  seventeen  men,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Gorell. 
Though  so  few  in  number,  their  duties  were  of  a  very 
important  character.  In  the  neighborhood  of  Green  Bay, 
were  numerous  and  powerful  Indian  tribes.  The  Meno- 
nionies  lived  at  the  mouth  of  Fox  River,  close  to  the  fort. 
The  Winnebagoes  had  several  yillages  on  the  lake  which 
bears  their  name,  and  the  Sacs  and  Foxes  were  established 
on  the  River  Wisconsin,  in  a  large  village  composed  of 
houses  neatly  built  of  logs  and  l)ark,  and  surrounded  by 
fields  of  corn  and  vegetables.  West  of  the  Mississippi 
was  the  powerful  nation  of  the  Dahcotah,  whose  strength 
was  loosely  estimated  at  thirty  thousand  fighting  men, 
and  who,  in  the  excess  of  their  haughtiness,  styled  the 
surrounding  tribes  their  dogs  and  slaves.  The  command- 
ant of  Green  Bay  was  the  representative  of  the  British 
government,  in  communication  with  all  these  tribes.  It 
devolved  upon  him  to  secure  their  friendship,  and  keep 
them  at  peace;  and  he  was  also  intrusted,  in  a  great 
measure,  v.ith  the  power  of  regulating  the  fur- trade  among 
tliem. '  In  the  course  of  each  season,  parties  of  Indians, 
from  every  quarter,  would  come  ^o  the  fort,  each  expect- 
ing to  be  received  with  speeches  and  presents. 

Goreli  seems  to  have  acquitted  himself  with  great  judg- 
ment and  prudence.  On  first  arriving  at  the  fort,  he  had 
found  its  defences  decayed  and  ruinous,  the  Canadian  in- 
habitants unfriendly,  and  many  of  the  Indians  disposed 
to  hostility.  His  good  conduct  contributed  to  allay  their 
irritation,  and  he  was  particularly  successful  in  conciliat- 
ing his  immediate  neighbors,  the  Menomonies.  They  had 
taken  an  active  part  in  the  late  war  between  France  and 
England,  and  their  spirits  were  humbled  by  the  losses 

thfr»v  \\iif\     cncfdinofl     cia  \x7o]\  qo    Kv  T'ononf.    rairorroa     r\-f 


11   Qo    Irwj  r*cinani 


th^ 


266 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ft  '' 
I;     » 


If    ?!    ' 


i    * 


Hi 

I  'V 

it   ^# 
E   ^'1 


smallpox.  Gorell  summoned  them  to  a  council,  and  de- 
livered a  speech,  in  which  he  avoided  wounding  theii- 
pride,  but  at  the  sfime  time  assumed  a  tone  of  firmness 
and  decision,  such  as  can  alone  command  an  Indian's  re- 
spect. He  told  them  that  the  King  of  England  had  heard 
of  their  ill  conduct,  but  that  he  was  ready  to  forget  all 
that  had  passed.  If,  however,  they  should  again  give  him 
cause  of  complaint,  he  would  send  an  army,  numerous  as 
the  trees  of  the  forest,  and  utterly  destroy  them.  Flatter- 
ing expressions  of  confidence  and  esteem  succeeded,  and 
the  whole  was  enforced  by  the  distribution  of  a  few  pres- 
ents. The  Menomonies  replied  by  assurances  of  friend- 
ship, more  sincerely  made  and  faithfully  kept  than  could 
have  been  expected.  As  Indians  of  the  other  tribes  came 
from  time  to  time  to  the  fort,  they  met  with  a  similar  re- 
ception, and,  in,  his  whole  intercotirse  with  them,  the  con- 
stant aim  of  the  commandant  was  to  gain  their  good  will. 
The  result  was  most  happy  for  himself  and  his  garrison. 
On  the  fifteenth  of  June,  1763,  an  Ottawa  Indian 
brought  to  Gorell  the  following  letter  from  Captain 
Etherington : — 

**  Michillimackinac,  June  11,  1763. 
«  Dear  Sir : 

"  This  place  was  taken  by  surprise,  on  the  fourth  in- 
stant, by  the  Chippeways,  [Ojibwas,]  at  which  time  Lieu- 
tenant Jamet  and  twenty  [fifteen]  more  were  killed,  and 
all  the  rest  taken  prisoners ;  but  our  good  friends,  the 
Ottawas,  have  taken  Lieutenant  Lesley,  me,  and  eleven 
men,  out  of  their  hands,  and  have  promised  to  reinstate 
us  again.  You'll  therefore,  on  the  receipt  of  this,  which 
I  send  by  a  canoe  of  Ottawas,  set  out  with  all  your  garri- 
son, and  what  English  traders  you  have  with  you,  and 
come  with  the  Indian  who  gives  you  this,  who  will  con- 
duct you  safe  to  me.  You  must  be  sure  to  follow  the  in- 
struction you  receive  from  the  bearer  of  this,  as  you  are 
by  no  means  to  come  to  this  post  before  you  see  me  at 
the  village,  twenty  miles  from  this I  must  once 


if,! 


GREEN  BAY  ABANDONED. 


267 


more  beg  you'll  lose  no  time  in  coming  to  join  me ;  at  the 
same  time,  be  very  careful,  and  always  be  on  your  guard. 
I  long  much  to  see  you,  and  am,  dear  sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  serv't. 

"Geo.  Etheeington. 

"  J.  GORELL, 

"  Royal  Americans." 

On  receiving  this  letter,  Gorell  summoned  the  Menom- 
onies  to  a  council,  told  them  what  the  O  jib  was  had  done, 
and  said  that  he  and  his  soldiers  were  going  to  Michil- 
limackinac  to  restore  order,  adding,  that  during  his  ab- 
sence he  commended  the  fort  to  their  care.  Great  num- 
bers of  the  Winnebagoes  and  of  the  Sacs  and  Foxes  after- 
wards arrived,  and  Gorell  addressed  them  in  nearly  the 
same  words.  Presents  were  given  them,  and  it  soon  ap- 
peared that  the  greater  part  were  well  disposed  towards 
the  English,  though  a  few  were  inclined  to  prevent  their 
departure,  and  even  to  threaten  hostility.  At  this  junc- 
ture, a  fortunate  incident  occurred.  A  Dahcotah  chief 
arrived  with  a  message  from  his  people  to  the  following 
import :  They  had  heard,  he  said,  of  the  bad  conduct  of 
the  Ojibwas.  They  hoped  that  the  tribes  of  Green  Bay 
would  not  follow  their  example,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
would  protect  the  English  garrison.  Unless  they  did  so, 
the  Dahcotah  would  fall  upon  them,  and  take  ample  re- 
venge. This  auspicious  interference  must,  no  doubt,  be 
ascribed  to  the  hatred  with  which  the  Dahcotah  had  long 
regarded  the  Ojibwas.  That  the  latter  should  espouse 
one  side  of  the  quarrel,  was  abundant  reason  to  the  Dah- 
cotah for  adopting  the  other. 

Some  of  the  Green  Bav  Indians  were  also  at  enmity 
with  the  Ojibwas,  and  all  opposition  to  the  departure  of 
the  English  was  now  at  an  end.  Indeed,  some  of  the 
more  friendly  offered  to  escort  the  garrison  on  its  way ; 
and  on  the  twenty-first  of  June,  Gorell's  party  embarked 
in  several  bateaux,  accompanied  by  ninety  warriors  in 
canoes.    Approaching  Isle  du  Castor,  near  the  mouth  of 


268 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


^-fm 


H  *' 


Green  Bay,  an  alarm  was  given  that  the  Ojibwas  were 
lying  there  in  anihush  ;  on  wh'ivh  tiie  Menomonies  raised 
tiie  war-song,  stripped  themselves,  and  pnspared  to  do 
battle  in  behalf  of  tlic^  English.  The  alarm,  however, 
proved  false ;  and,  having  crossed  Lake  Michigan  in 
safety,  the  party  arrived  at  tluj  village  of  L'Arbre  Croehe 
on  the  thirtieth.  The  Ottjiwas  eame  down  to  the  beach 
to  salutii  them  with  a  (lis(;harge  of  guns,  and,  on  landing, 
they  were  present^^d  with  the  pit)e  of  peace.  Captain 
Etherington  and  Lieutenant  Leslie,  with  eleven  men,  were 
in  the  village,  detained  as  prisoners,  though  treatt;d  with 
kindness.  It  was  thought  that  the  Ottawas  intended  to 
disarm  the  party  of  Gorell  also ;  but  the  latter  gave  out 
that  he  would  resist  such  an  attempt,  and  his  soldiers 
were  permitted  to  retain  their  weapons. 

Several  succeeding  days  were  occupied  by  the  Indians 
in  holding  councils.  Those  from  Green  I^ay  requested 
the  Ottawas  to  set  their  prisoners  at  liberty,  and  tht; 
latter,  at  length,  assented.  A  difficulty  still  remained,  as 
the  Ojibwas  had  declared  that  they  would  prevent  the 
English  from  passing  down  to  Montreal.  Their  chiefs 
were  therefore  sunnnoned  ;  and  being  at  this  time,  as  we 
have  seen,  in  a  state  of  much  alarm,  they  at  length  reluc- 
tantly yielded  the  point.  On  the  eighteenth  of  July,  the 
English,  escorted  by  a  fleet  of  Indian  canoes,  left  L'Arbre 
Croehe,  and  reaching,  without  interruption,  the  portage 
of  the  River  Ottawa,  descended  to  Montreal,  where  they 
all  arrived  in  safety,  on  the  thirteenth  day  of  August. 
Except  the  garrison  of  Detroit,  not  a  British  soldier  now 
remained  in  the  region  of  the  lakes. 


p 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


FRONTIER    PORTS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


Wk  have  followed  the  war  to  its  farthest  confines, 
md  watched  it  in  its  remotest  optaations ;  not  because 
there  is  anything  esj  cially  worthy  to  be  chronicled  in 
the  capture  of  a  backwoods  fort,  and  the  slaughter  of  a 
few  soldiers,  but  because  these  acts  exhibit  some  of  the 
characteristic  traits  of  the  actors.  It  was  along  the  line 
of  the  British  frontier  that  the  war  raged  with  its  most 
destructive  violence.  To  destroy  the  garrisons,  and  then 
turn  upon  the  settlements,  had  been  the  original  plan  of 
tlie  Indians  ;  and  while  Pontiac  was  pushing  the  siege  of 
Detroit,  and  the  smaller  interior  posts  were  treacherously 
assailed,  the  tempest  was  gathering  which  was  soon  to 
burst  along  the  whole  frontier. 

In  1763,  the  British  settlements  did  not  extend  beyond 
the  Alleghanies.  In  the  province  of  New  York,  they 
reached  no  farther  than  the  German  Flats,  on  the  Mohawk. 
In  Pennsylvania,  the  town  of  Bedford  might  be  regarded 
as  the  extreme  verge  of  the  frontier,  while  the  settlements 
of  Virginia  extended  to  a  corresponding  distance. 
Through  the  adjacent  wilderness  ran  various  lines  of 
military  posts,  to  make  good  the  communication  from 
point  to  point.  One  of  the  most  important  among  these 
passed  through  the  country  of  the  Six  Nations,  and 
guarded  the  route  between  the  northern  colonies  and 
Lake  Ontario.  This  communication  was  formed  by  the 
Hudson,  the  Mohawk,  Wood  Creek,  the  Oneida  Lake,  and 
the  River  Oswego.  It  was  defended  by  Forts  Stanwix, 
Brewerton,   Oswego,  and    two    or  three  smaller  posts. 


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270 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ii  I 


I.  H  hi 


Near  the  western  extremity  of  Lake  Ontario  stood  Fort 
Niagara,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  whence  it  derived  its 
name.    It  was  a  strong  and  extensive  work,  guarding  the 
access  to  the  whole  interior  country,  both  by  way  of  the 
Oswego  communication  just  mentioned,  and  by  that  of 
Canada  and  the  St.   Lawrence.     From  Fort  Niagara  the 
route  lay  by  a  portage  past  the  great  falls  to  Presqu'Isle, 
on   Lake    Erie,   where   the   town  of  Erie  now  stands. 
Thence   the   traveller  could  pass,   by  a  short  overland 
passage,  to  Fort  Le  Boeuf,  on  a  branch  of  the  Alleghany ; 
thence,   by   water,  to  Venango;  and  thence,  down  the 
Alleghany,  to  Fort  Pitt.     This  last-mentioned  post  stood 
on  the  present  site  of  Pittsburg— the  point  of  land  formed 
by  the  confluence  of  the  Alleghany  and  the  Monongahela. 
Its  position  was  as  captivating  to  the  eye  of  an  artist  as 
it  was  commanding  in  a  military  point  of  view.     On  the 
left,  the  Monongahela  descended  through  a  woody  valley 
of  singular  beauty;  on  the  right,  flowed  the  Alleghany, 
beneath  steep  and  lofty  banks ;  and  both  united,  in  front, 
to  form  the  broad  Ohio,  which,  flanked  by  picturesque 
hiHa  and  declivities,  began  at  this  point  its  interminable 
progress  towards  the  Mississippi.     The  place  already  had 
its  historic  associations,  though,  as  yet,  their  roughness 
was  unmellowed  by  the  lapse  of  time.    It  was  here  that 
the  French  had  erected  Fort  du  Quesne.    Within  a  few 
miles,   Braddoek  encountered  his  disastrous  overthrow ; 
and  on  the  hill  behind  the  fort.  Grant's  Highlanders  and 
Lewis'  Virginians  had  been  surrounded    and  captured, 
though  not  without  a  stout  resistance  on  the  part  of  the 
latter. 

Fort  Pitt  was  built  by  General  Stanwix,  in  the  year 
1759,  upon  the  ruins  of  Fort  du  Quesne,  destroyed  by 
General  Forbes.  It  was  a  strong  fortification,  with  ram- 
parts of  earth,  faced  with  brick  on  the  side  looking  down 
the  Ohio.  Its  walls  have  long  since  been  levelled  to  the 
ground,  aud  over  their  ruins  have  risen  warehouses,  and 
forges  with  countless  furnace  chimneys,  rolling  up  their 
black  volumes  of   imoke.      Where  once  the  bark  canoe 


<         **i^ 


ALARMS  AT  FORT  PITT. 


271 


was  tied  to  the  bank,   a  throng  of   steamers   now  lie 
moored  along  the  crowded  levee. 

For  Pitt  stood  far  aloof  in  the  forest,  and  one  might 
journey  eastward  full  two  hundred  miles,  before  the  Eng- 
lish settlements  began  to  thic^  ;en.     Behind  it  lay  a  broken 
and  woody  tract ;  then  succeeded  the  great  barrier  of  the 
Alleghanies,  traversing  the  country  in  successive  ridges ; 
and  beyond  tnese  lay  vast  woods,  extending  to  the  Sus- 
quehanna.   Eastward  of  this  river,  cabins  of  settlers  be- 
came more  numerous,  until,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lan- 
caster, the  country  assumed  an  appearance  of  prosperity 
and  cultivation.     Two  roads  led  from  Fort  Pitt  to  the 
settlements,  one  of  which  was  cut  by  General  Braddock 
in  his  disastrous  march  across  the  mountains,  from  Cum- 
berland, in  the  year  of  1755.    The  other,  which  was  the 
more  frequented,  passed  by  Carlisle  and  Bedford,  and 
was  made  by  General  Forbes,  in  1758.      Leaving  the  fort 
by  this   latter  route,  the  traveller  would  find  himself, 
after  a  journey  of  fifty-six  miles,  at  the  little   post  of 
Ligonier,    whence  he  would  soon  reach    Fort  Bedford, 
about  a  hundred  miles  from  Fort  Pitt.      It  was  nestled 
among  mountains,  and  surrounded  by  clearings  and  log 
cabins.    Passing  several  small  posts  and  settlements,  he 
would  arrive  at  Carlisle,  nearly  a  hundred  miles  farther 
east,  a  place  resembling  Bedford  in  its  general  aspect, 
although  of  greater  extent.     Numerous  houses  of  settlers 
were  scattered  here  and  there  among  the  valleys  on  each 
side  of  the  road  from  Fort  Pitt,  so  that  the  nui   oer  of 
families  beyond  the  Susquehanna  amounted  t-o  several 
hundreds,  thinly  distributed  over  a  great  space.    From 
Carlisle  to  Harris'  Ferry,  now  Harrisburg,  on  the  Susque- 
hanna, was  but  a  short  distance ;  and  from  thence,  the 
road  led  directly  into  the  heart  of  the  settlements.     The 
frontiers  of  Virginia  bore  a  general  resemblance  to  those 
of  Pennsylvania.     It  is  not  necessary  at  present  to  indi- 
cate minutely  the  position  of  their  scattered  settlements, 
and  the  small  posts  intended  to  protect  them.    Along 
these  borders  all  had  remained  quiet,  and  nothmg  oc- 


272 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


curred  to  excite  alarm  or  uneasiness,  until  the  twenty, 
seventh  of  May,  when,  at  about  dusk  in  the  evening,  a 
party  of  Indians  was  seen  from  Fort  Pitt,  descending  the 
banks  of  the  Alleghany,  with  laden  pack-horses.     They 
built  fires,  and  encamped  on  the  shore  till  daybreak,  when 
they  all  crossed  over  to  the  fort,  bringing  with  them  a 
great  quantity  of  valuable  furs.     These  they  sold  to  the 
traders,  demanding,  in  exchange,   bullets,  hatchets,  and 
gunpowder ;  but  their  conduct  was  so  peculiar  as  to  excite 
the  just  suspicion  that  they  came  either  as  spies  or  with 
some   other  insidious   design.     Hardly  were  they  gone 
when  tidings  came  in  that  Colonel  Clapham,  with  several 
persons,  both  men  and  women,  had  been  murdered  and 
scalped  near  the  fort ;  and  it  was  soon  after  discovered 
that  the  inhabitants  of  an  Indian  town,  a  few  miles  up 
the  Alleghany,^  had  totally  abandonded  their  cabins,  as  if 
bent  on  some  plan  of  mischief.     On  the   next  day,  two 
soldiers  were  shot  within  a  mile  of  the  fort.     An  express 
was  hastily  sent  to  Venango,  to  warn  the  little  garrison 
of  danger ;  but  he  returned  almost  immediately,  having 
been  twice  fired  at,  and  severely  wounded.*     A   trader 
named  Calhoun  now  came  in  from  the  Indian  village  of 
Tuscaroras,  with  intelligence  of  a  yet  more  startling  kind. 
At  eleven  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  twenty-seventh,  a 
chief  named  Shingas,  with  several  of  the  principal  warriors 
in  the  place,  had  come  to  Calhoun's  cabin,  and  earnestly 
begged  him  to  depart,  declaring  that  they  did  not  wish  to 
see  him  killed  before  their  eyes.    The  Ottawas  and  Ojib- 

*Extract  from  a  letter-Fort  Pitt,  May  31,(Pemi.  Gaz.  No.  1798.) 
"We  have  most  melancholy  Accounts  here— The  Indians  have 
broke  out  m  several  Places,  and  murdered  Colonel  Clapham 
and  his  Family  ;  also  two  of  our  Soldiers  at  the  Saw-mill,  near 
the  Fort,  and  two  Scalps  are  taken  from  each  man.  An  Indian 
has  brought  a  War-Belt  to  Tuscarora,  and  says  Detroit  is  invested  ; 
and  that  St.  Dusky  is  cut  off,   and  Ensign  Pawley  made  Pris- 

xt"®u~^,^''^'^  ^^^^^  ^^®  ^*°P*  ^*  Tuscarora  by  the  Indians— Lust 
Night  eleven  Men  were  attacked  at  Beaver  Creek,  eight  or  nine 
of  whom,  it  is  said,  were  killed— And  Twenty-five  of  Macrae's 
and  Alison's  Horses,  loaded  with  Skins,  are  all  taken." 


SLAUGHTER  OF  TRADERS. 


2T3 


was,  they  said,  had  taken  up  the  hatchet,  and  captured 
Detroit,  Sandusky,  and  all  the  forts  of  the  interior.  The 
Delawares  and  Shawanoes  of  the  Ohio  were  following 
their  example,  and  were  murdering  all  the  traders  among 
them.  Calhoun  and  the  thirteen  men  in  his  employ  lost 
no  time  in  taking  their  departure.  The  Indians  forced 
them  to  leave  their  guns  behind,  promising  that  they 
would  give  them  three  warriors  to  guide  them  in  safety 
to  Fort  Pitt ;  but  the  whole  proved  a  piece  of  character- 
istic dissimulation  and  treachery.  The  three  guides  led 
tiiem  into  an  ambuscade  at  the  mouth  of  Beaver  Creek. 
A  volley  of  balls  showered  upon  them ;  eleven  were 
killed  on  the  spot,  and  Calhoun  and  two  others  alone  made 
their  escape.* 

The  intelligence  concerning  the  fate  of  the  traders  in  the 
Indian  villages  proved  but  too  true.  They  were  slaugh- 
tered everywhere,  without  mercy,  and  often  under  circum- 
stances of  the  foulest  barbarity.  A  boy  named  M'Cul- 
lough,  captured  during  the  French  war,  and  at  this  time 
a  prisoner  amorg  the  Indians,  relates,  in  his  published 
narrative,  that  he,  with  a  party  of  Indian  children,  went 
out,  one  evening,  to  gaze  with  awe  and  wonder  at  the 
body  of  a  trader,  which  lay  by  the  side  of  the  path, 
mangled  with  tomahawks,  and  stuck  full  of  arrows,  f    It 

*Copy  of  intelligence  brought  to  Fort  Pitt  by  Mr.  Calhoun,  MS. 

t  M'Cullough  gives  the  following  account  of  the  murder  of 
another  of  the  traders,  named  Green  :— 

"  About  sunrise.  Mussoughwhese  (an  Indian,  my  adopted 
brother's  nephew,  known  by  the  name  of  Ben  Dickson,  among 
the  white  people)  came  to  our  house  ;  he  had  a  pistol  and  a  large 
scalpmg-knife,  concealed  under  his  blanket,  belted  round  his 
body.  He  informed  Kettoohhalend,  (for  that  was  my  adopted 
brother's  name,)  that  he  came  to  kill  Tom  Green  ;  but  Kettooh- 
halend endeavoured  to  persuade  him  off  it.  They  walked  out 
together,  and  Green  followed  them,  endeavouring,  as  I  suppose, 
to  discover  the  cause  of  the  alarm  the  night  before  ;  in  a  short 
time  they  returned  to  the  house,  and  immediately  went  out  again. 
Cireen  asked  me  to  bring  him  his  horse,  as  we  heard  the  bell  a 
short  distance  off  ;  he  then  went  after  the  Indians  again,  and  I 
went  for  the  horse.  As  I  was  returning,  I  observed  them  com- 
ing out  of  a  house  about  two  hundred  yards  from  ours :    Kettooh 

is  ■  — 


i  'tli 


274 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


was  stated  in  the  journals  of  the  day,  that  more  than  a 
hundred  traders  fell  victims,  and  that  the  property  taken 
from  them,  or  seized  at  the  capture  of  the  interior  posts, 
amounted  to  an  incredible  sum. 

The  Moravian  Loskiel  relates  that  in  the  villages  of  the 
Hurons  or  Wyandots,  meaning  probably  those  of  San- 
dusky,  the  traders  were  so  numerous  that  the  Indians 
were  afraid  to  attack  them  openly,  and  had  recourse  to 
the  following  stratagem :  They  told  their  unsuspecting 
victims  that  the  surrounding  tribes  had  risen  in  arms, 
and  were  soon  coming  that  way,  bent  on  killing  every 
Englishman  they  could  find.  The  Wyandots  averred 
that  they  would  gladly  protect  their  friends  the  white 
men ;  but  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  do  so,  unless  the 
latter  would  consent,  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  to  be- 
come their  prisoners.  In  this  case,  they  said,  the  hostile 
Indians  would  refrain  from  injuring  them,  and  they 
should  be  set  at  liberty  as  soon  as  the  danger  was  past. 
The  traders  fell  into  the  snare.     They  gave  up  their  arms, 


¥  ii-f 


halend  was  foremost,  Green  in  the  middle  ;  I  took  but  slight 
notice  of  them,  until  I  heard  the  report  of  a  pistol ;  I  cast  my 
eyes  towards  them,  and  observed  the  smoke,  and  saw  Green 
standing  on  the  side  of  the  path,  with  his  hands  across  his  breast ; 
I  thought  it  had  been  him  tliat  shot ;  he  stood  a  few  minutes 
then  fell  on  his  face  across  the  path.  I  instantly  got  off  the 
horse,  and  held  him  by  the  bridle.  Kettoohhi  nd  sunk  his  pipe 
tomaliawk  into  his  skull ;  Mussoughwhese  stabbed  him  under  the 
armpit  with  his  scalping-knife ;  he  had  shot  him  between  the 
shoulders  with  his  pistol.  The  sqiiaws  gathered  about  him  and 
stripped  him  naked,  trailed  him  down  the  bank,  and  plunged  him 
into  the  creek  ;  there  was  a  freshet  in  the  creek  at  the  time,  which 
carried  him  off.  Mussoughwhese  then  came  to  me,  (where  I  was 
holding  the  horse,  as  I  had  not  moved  from  the  spot  where  I  was 
when  Green  was  sliot,)  with  the  bloody  knife  in  his  hand  ;  he 
told  me  that  he  was  coming  to  kill  me  next ;  lie  reached  out  his 
hand  and  took  hold  of  the  bridle,  telling  me  that  that  was  his 
horse  ;  I  was  glad  to  parley  with  him  on  the  terms,  and  delivered 
the  horse  to  him.  All  the  Indians  in  the  town  immediately  col- 
lected together,  and  started  off  to  the  Salt  Licks,  where  the  rest 
of  the  traders  were,  and  murdered  the  whole  of  them,  and  divided 
their  goods  amongst  them,  and  likewise  their  horses  " 


FORT  LIGONIER— FORT  BEDFORD. 


27f 


and,  the  better  to  carry  out  the  deception,  even  consented 
to  be  bound ;  but  no  sooner  was  this  accomplished,  than 
their  treacherous  counsellors  murdered  them  all  in  cold 
blood. 

A  curious  incident,  relating  to  this  period,  is  given  by 
the  missionary  Hecke welder.  Strange  as  the  story  may 
appear,  it  is  in  strict  accordance  with  Indian  character 
and  usage,  and  perhaps  need  not  be  rejected  as  wholly 
void  of  truth.  The  name  of  the  person  to  whom  it  relates 
several  times  occurs  in  the  manuscript  journals  and  cor- 
respondence of  officers  in  the  Indian  country.  A  trader 
named  Chapman  was  made  prisoner  by  the  Indians  near 
Detroit.  For  some  time,  he  was  protected  by  the  humane 
interference  of  a  Frenchman ;  but  at  length  his  captors 
resolved  to  burn  him  alive.  He  was  tied  to  the  stake, 
and  the  Are  was  kindled.  As  the  heat  grew  intolerable, 
one  of  the  Indians  handed  to  him  a  bowl  filled  with  broth. 
The  wretched  man,  scorching  with  fiery  thirst,  eagerly 
snatched  the  vessel,  and  applied  it  to  his  lips ;  but  the 
liquid  was  purposely  made  scalding  hot.  With  a  sudden 
burst  of  rage,  he  flung  back  the  bowl  and  its  contents 
into  the  face  of  the  Indian.  "  He  is  mad !  he  is  mad !  " 
shouted  the  crowd ;  and  though,  the  moment  before,  they 
had  been  keenly  anticipating  the  delight  of  seeing  him 
burn,  they  hastily  put  out  the  fire,  released  him  from  the 
stake,  and  set  him  at  liberty.  Such  is  the  superstitious 
respect  which  the  Indians  entertain  for  every  form  of 
insanity. 

While  the  alarming  incidents  just  mentioned  were 
occurring  at  Fort  Pitt,  the  garrison  of  Fort  Ligonier  re- 
ceived yet  more  unequivocal  tokens  of  hostility ;  for  one 
morning  a  volley  of  bullets  was  sent  among  them,  with 
no  other  effect,  however,  than  killing  a  few  horses.  In 
the  vicinity  of  Fort  Bedford,  several  men  were  killed  ;  on 
which  the  inhabitants  were  mustered  and  organized,  and 
the  garrison  kept  constantly  on  the  alert.  A  few  of  the 
best  woodsmen  were  formed  into  a  company,  dressed  and 
painted  like  Indians.    A  party  of  the  enemy  suddenly 


iS 


276 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ml 


appeared,  whooping  and  brandishing  their  tomahawks,  at 
the  skirts  of  the  forest ;  on  which  these  counterfeit  sav- 
ages dashed  upon  them  at  full  gallop,  routing  them  in  an 
instant,  and  driving  them  far  through  the  woods. 

At  Fort  Pitt  every  preparation  was  made  for  an  attack. 
The  houses  and  cabins  outside  the  rampart  were  levelled 
to  the  ground,  and  every  morning,  at  an  hour  before 
dawn,  the  drum  beat,  and  the  troops  were  ordered  to 
their  alarm  posts.*  The  garrison,  commanded  by  Captain 
Ecuyer,  consisted  of  three  hundred  and  thirty  soldiers, 
traders,  and  backwoodsmen,  and  there  were  also  in  the 
fort  about  one  hundred  women,  and  a  still  greater  num- 
ber of  children,  most  of  them  belonging  to  the  families  of 
settlers  who  were  preparing  to  build  their  cabins  in  the 
neighborhood. 

The  sudden  and  desultory  outrages  with  which  the  war 
began,  and  which  only  served  to  put  the  garrison  on  their 
guard,  prove  that  among  the  neighboring  Indians  there 
was  no  chief  of  sufficient  power  to  curb  their  wayward 
temper,  and  force  them  to  conform  to  any  preconcerted 
plan.  The  authors  of  the  mischief  were  unruly  young 
warriors,  fevered  with  eagerness  to  win  the  first  scali), 
and  setting  at  defiance  the  authority  of  their  elders. 
These  petty  annoyances,  far  from  abating,  continued  for 
many  successive  days,  and  kept  the  garrison  in  a  state  of 
restless  alarm.     It  was  highly  dangerous  to  venture  out- 

*  Extract  from  a  Letter— Fort  Ktt,  June  16,  1763,  (Penn.  Gaz. 
No.  1801.) 

"We  have  Alarms  from,  and  Skirmishes  with,  the  Indians 
every  Day ;  but  tliey  have  done  us  little  Harm  as  yet.  Yester- 
day I  was  out  with  a  Party  of  Men,  when  we  were  fired  upon, 
and  one  of  the  Serjeants  was  killed  ;  but  we  beat  off  the  Indians, 
and  brought  the  Man  in  with  his  Scalp  on.  Last  Night  the  Bul- 
lock Guard  was  fired  upon,  when  one  Cow  was  killed.  We  are 
obliged  to  be  on  Duty  Night  and  Day.  The  Indians  have  cut  off 
above  100  of  our  Traders  in  the  Woods,  besides  all  our  little 
Posts.  We  have  Plenty  of  Provisions  ;  and  the  Fort  is  in  such  a 
good  Posture  of  Defence,  that,  with  God's  Assistance,  we  can 
defend  it  against  1000  Indians." 


INDIAN  ADVICE. 


277 


side  the  walls,  and  a  few  who  attempted  it  were  shot  aiid 
scalped  by  lurking  Indians.  "  They  have  the  impudence," 
writes  an  officer,  "  to  fire  all  night  at  our  sentinels ; "  nor 
were  these  attacks  confined  to  the  night,  for  even  during 
the  day  no  man  willingly  exposed  his  head  above  the 
rampart.  The  surrounding  woods  were  known  to  be  full 
of  prowling  Indians,  whose  numter  seemed  daily  increas- 
ing, though  as  yet  they  had  made  no  attempt  at  a  general 
attack.  At  length,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-second 
of  June,  a  party  of  them  appeared  at  the  farthest  extrem- 
ity of  the  cleared  lands  behind  the  fort,  driving  off  the 
horses  which  were  grazing  there,  and  killing  the  cattle. 
No  sooner  was  this  accomplished  than  a  general  fire  was 
opened  upon  the  fort  from  every  side  at  once,  though  at 
so  great  a  distance  that  only  two  men  were  killed.  The 
garrison  replied  by  a  discharge  of  howitzers,  the  shells 
of  which,  bursting  in  the  midst  of  the  Indians,  greatly 
amazed  and  disconcerted  them.  As  it  grew  dark,  their 
fire  slackened,  though,  throughout  the  night,  the  flash  of 
guns  was  seen  at  frequent  intervals,  followed  by  the 
whooping  of  the  invisible  assailants. 

At  nine  o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  several  aii- 
dians  approached  the  fort  with  the  utmost  confidence,  and 
took  their  stand  close  to  the  oui^ide  of  the  ditch,  where 
one  of  them,  a  Delaware,  named  the  Turtle's  Heart,  ad- 
dressed the  garrison  as  follows : — 

"  My  brothers,  we  that  stand  here  are  your  friends ; 
but  we  have  bad  news  to  tell  you.  Six  great  nations  of 
Indians  have  taken  up  the  hatchet,  and  cut  off  all  the 
English  garrisons,  excepting  yours.  They  are  now  on 
their  way  to  destroy  you  also. 

"  My  brothers,  we  are  your  friends,  and  we  wish  to 
save  your  lives.  What  we  desire  you  to  do  is  this :  You 
must  leave  this  fort,  with  all  your  women  and  children, 
and  go  down  to  the  English  settlements,  where  you  will 
be  safe.  There  are  many  bad  Indians  already  here ;  but 
we  will  protect  you  from  them.  You  must  go  at  once, 
because  if  you  wait  till  the  six  great  nations  arrive  here, 


r:i:i- 


278 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


you  will  all  be  killed,  and  we  can  do  nothing  to  protect 
you." 

To  this  proposal,  by  which  the  Indians  hoped  to  gain  a 
safe  and  easy  possession  of  the  fort,  Captain  Ecuyer  made 
the  •following  reply.  The  vein  of  humor  perceptible  in  it 
may  serve  to  indicate  that  he  was  under  no  great  appre- 
hension for  the  safety  of  his  garrison. 

«  My  brothers,  we  are  very  grateful  for  your  kindness, 
though  we  are  convinced  that  you  must  be  mistaken  in 
what  you  have  told  us  about  the  forts  being  captured. 
As  for  ourselves,  we  have  plenty  of  provisions,  and  are 
able  to  keep  the  fort  against  all  the  nations  of  Indians 
that  may  dare  to  attack  it.  We  are  very  well  off  in  this 
place,  and  we  mean  to  stay  here. 

"  My  brothers,  as  you  have  shown  yourselves  such  true 
friends,  we  feel  bound  in  gratitude  to  inform  you  that  an 
army  of  six  tiiousand  English  will  shortly  arrive  here, 
and  that  another  army  of  three  thousand  is  gone  up  the 
lakes,  to  punish  the  Ottawas  and  Ojibwas.  A  third  has 
gone  to  the  frontiers  of  Virginia,  where  they  will  be 
joined  by  your  enemies,  the  Cherokees  and  Catawbas, 
who  are  coming  here  to  destroy  you.  Therefore  take 
pity  on  your  women  and  children,  and  get  out  of  the  way 
as  soon  as  possible.  We  have  told  you  this  in  confidence, 
out  of  our  great  solicitude  lest  any  of  you  should  be  hurt ; 
and  we  hope  that  you  will  not  tell  the  other  Indians,  lest 
they  should  escape  from  our  vengeance." 

This  politic  invention  of  the  three  armies  had  an  ex- 
cellent effect,  and  so  startled  the  Indians,  that,  on  the 
next  day,  most  of  them  withdrew  from  the  neighborhood, 
and  went  to  meet  a  great  body  of  warriors,  who  were  ad- 
vancing from  the  westward  to  attack  the  fort.  Or  the 
afternoon  of  the  twenty-sixth,  a  soldier  named  Gray, 
belonging  to  the  garrison  of  PresquTsle,  came  in  with 
the  report  that,  more  than  a  week  before,  that  little  post 
had  been  furiously  attacked  by  upwards  of  two  hundred 
Indians  from  Detroit,  that  they  had  assailed  it  for  three 
days,  repeatedly  setting  it  on  fire,  and  had  at  length 


DISASTROUS  TIDINGS. 


279 


undermined  it  so  completely,  that  the  garrison  was 
forced  to  capitulate,  on  condition  of  being  allowed  to  re- 
tire in  safety  to  Fort  Pitt.  No  sooner,  however,  had  they 
left  their  shelter,  than  the  Indians  fell  upon  them,  and,  as 
(iray  declared,  butchered  them  all,  except  himself  and 
one  other  man,  who  darted  into  the  woods,  and  escaped 
amid  the  confusion,  hearing  behind  them,  as  they  fled, 
the  screams  of  their  murdered  comrades.  This  account 
proved  erroneous,  as  the  garrison  were  carried  by  their 
captors  in  safety  to  Detroit.  Some  time  after  this  event. 
Captain  Dalzell's  detachment,  on  their  way  to  Detroit, . 
stopped  at  the  place,  and  found,  close  to  the  ruined  fort, 
the  hair  of  several  of  the  men,  which  had  been  shorn  off, 
as  a  preliminary  step  in  the  process  of  painting  and 
bedecking  them  like  Indian  warriors.  From  this  it 
appears  that  some  of  the  unfortunate  soldiers  were 
adopted  on  the  spot  into  the  tribes  of  their  conquer- 
ors. In  a  previous  chapter,  a  detailed  account  has 
been  given  of  the  defence  of  Presqu'Isle,  and  its  final 
capture. 

Gray  informed  Captain  Ecuyer  that,  a  few  days  before 
the  attack  on  the  garrison,  they  had  seen  a  schooner  on 
the  lake,  approaching  from  the  westward.  She  had  sent 
a  boat  on  shore  with  the  tidings  that  Detroit  had  been 
beleaguered,  for  more  than  six  weeks,  by  many  hundred 
Indians,  and  that  a  detachment  of  ninety-six  men  had 
been  attacked  near  that  place,  of  whom  only  about  thirty 
had  escaped,  the  rest  being  either  killed  on  the  spot  or 
put  to  death  by  slow  torture.  The  panic-stricken  soldier, 
in  his  flight  from  Presqu'Isle,  had  passed  the  spots  where 
lately  had  stood  the  little  forts  of  Le  Bceuf  and  Venango. 
Both  were  burnt  level  with  the  ground,  and  he  surmised 
that  the  whole  of  their  wretched  garrisons  had  fallen 
victims.  The  disaster  proved  less  fatal  than  his  fears  led 
him  to  suspect ;  for,  on  the  same  day  on  which  he 
arrived,  Ensign  Price,  the  officer  commanding  at  Le 
Boeuf,  was  seen  approaching  along  the  banks  of  the 
Alleghany,  followed  by  seven  haggard  and  half-famished 


ffwr 


280 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


floldiers.*  On  the  evening  of  the  eighteenth,  a  great 
multitude  of  Indians  had  surrounded  his  post,  the  avai'- 
ahle  defences  of  wliirili,  at  tluit  time,  consisted  of  only  ono 
blockliouse.  ShoWv.ring  bullets  and  lire-arrows  against 
it,  they  soon  set  it  in  fianies  ;  and  at  midnight,  in  spite  of 
evi;ry  effort,  the  whole  upper  part  of  the  buildi!ig  was  in 
a  light  blaze.  The  assailants  now  gathered  in  a  half 
circle  before  the  entrance,  eagerly  expecting  the  monuiiit 
when  the  inmates,  stifled  amid  flame  and  smoke,  should 
rush  out  upon  certain  death.  But  Price  and  his  followers, 
with  the  energy  of  desperation,  hewed  an  opening 
through  the  massive  timbers  which  formed  the  back  wall 
of  the  blockhouse,  and  escaped  unperceived  into  the  dark 


.4 


*  Extract  from  a  Letter— Fort  Pitt,  June  36,  (Penn.  Gaz.  No. 
1802.) 

"  This  MorniAg,  Ensign  Price,  of  tlie  Royal  Americans,  with 
Part  of  his  Garrisor,  arrived  here,  being  separated  from  ihe  rest 
in  the  night.— The  Enemy  attached  his  Post,  and  set  if,  on  fire, 
and  while  they  watched  the  Door  of  the  House,  he  got  out  en  the 
other  side,  and  the  Indians  continued  firing  a  long  Time  after- 
wards, imagining  that  the  Garrison  was  in  it,  and  that  they  were 
consumed  with  the  House.— He  touched  at  Venango,  foun<l  tho 
Fort  burnt  to  the  Ground,  and  saw  one  of  our  Expresses  lying 
killed  on  the  Road. 

•'  Four  o'clock  in  the  Afternoon.  Just  now  came  in  one  of  the 
Soldiers  from  Presque  Isle,  who  says,  Mr.  Cliristie  fought  two 
Days  ;  that  the  Enemy  Fifty  times  set  Fire  to  the  Blockhouse, 
but  that  they  as  often  put  it  out :  That  they  tiien  undermined 
the  House,  and  was  ready  to  blow  it  up,  wlien  they  offered  Mr. 
Clirisiie  Terms,  who  accepted  them,  viz.,  That  he,  and  his 
Garrison,  was  to  be  conducted  to  this  Place.— Tlie  Soldier  also 
says,  lie  suspected  they  intended  to  put  them  all  to  Death  ;  and 
that  on  hearing  a  Woman  scream  out,  he  supposed  they  were 
murdering  her ;  upon  which  he  and  another  Soldier  came  im- 
mediately off,  but  knows  nothing  of  the  rest :  That  the  Vessel 
from  Niagara  was  in  Sight,  but  believes  she  had  no  Provisions, 
as  the  Indians  told  them  they  had  cutoff  Little  Niagara,  and  de- 
stroyed 800  Barrels:  And  that  he  thinks,  by  what  he  saw, 
Venango  had  capitulated." 

The  soldier  here  spoken  of  was  no  doubt  Gray,  who  was  men- 
tioned above,  though  his  story  is  somewhat  differently  given  in 
the  letter  of  Captain  Ecuyer,  just  cited. 


DESTRUCTION  OF  VENANGO. 


281 


was  men- 


woods  behind.  For  some  time,  they  continued  to  hear 
tho  reports  of  the  Indian  guns,  as  these  painted  demons 
were  still  leai)iiig  and  yelling  in  front  of  the  blazing 
])uilding,  iiring  into  the  loopholes,  and  exulting  in  the 
thought  that  their  enemies  were  suffering  the  agonit^s  of 
death  within.  The  fugitives  pressed  onward  through 
the  whole  of  the  next  day,  until,  at  one  o'clock  of  the 
su(5ceeding  night,  they  came  to  the  spot  where  Fort 
Venango  had  stood.  Nothing  remained  of  it  Init  piles  of 
glowing  embers,  among  which  lay  the  h"lf-consumed 
bodies  of  its  hapless  garrison.  They  continued  their 
journey ;  but  six  of  the  party  soon  gave  out,  and  were 
left  behind  in  the  vroods,  while  the  remainder  v/ere  'alf 
dead  with  fear,  hunger,  anil  exhaustion,  before  thei^  eyes 
were  gladdened  by  the  friendly  walls  of  Fort  Pitt. 

Not  a  man  remjiined  alive  to  tell  the  fate  of  Venango  ; 
and  it  was  not  until  some  time  after  that  an  Indian,  who 
was  present  at  its  destruction,  described  the  scene  to  Sir 
William  Johnson.  A  large  body  of  Senecas  gained 
entrance  under  pretence  of  friendship,  then  closed  the 
gates,  fell  upon  the  garrison,  and  butchered  them  all 
LAcept  the  commanding  officer.  Lieutenant  Gordon,  whom 
they  tortured  over  a  slow  fire  for  several  successive 
nights,  till  he  expired.  This  done,  they  burnt  the  place 
to  the  ground,  and  departed. 

While  Le  Boeuf  and  Venango  were  thus  assailed,  Fort 
Ligonier  was  also  attacked  by  a  large  body  of  Indians, 
who  fired  upon  it  with  great  fury  and  pertinacity,  but 
were  beaten  off  after  a  hard  day's  fighting.  Fort 
Augusta,  on  the  Susquehanna,  was  at  the  same  time  men- 
aced ;  but  the  garrison  being  strengthened  by  a  timely 
reenforcement,  the  Indians  abandoned  their  purpose. 
Carlisle,  Bedford,  and  the  small  intermediate  posts,  all 
experienced  some  effects  of  savage  hostility,*  while  among 

*  Extract  from  a  Letter— Fort  Bedford,  June  30,  1763,  (Penn. 
Gaz.  No.  1803.) 

"  This  Morning  a  Party  of  the  Enemy  attacked  fifteen  Persons, 
who  were  mowing  in  Mr.  Croghan's  Field,  within  a  Mile  of  the 


282 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTTAC. 


iiii 


the  settlers,  whose  houses  were  scattered  throughout  the 
adjacent  valleys,  outrages  were  perpetrated,  and  suffer- 
ings  endured,  which  defy  all  attempt  at  description. 

At  Fort  Pitt,  every  preparatir  j  was  made  to  repel  the 
attack  which  was  hourly  expected.     A  part  of  the  ram- 
part, undermined  by  the  spring  floods,  had  fallen  into  the 
ditch ;  but,  by  dint  of  great  labor,  this  injury  was  re- 
paired.   A  line  of  palisades  was  erected  along  the  ram- 
parts,  the  barracks  were  made  shot-proof,  to  protect  tlie 
women  and  children ;  and  as  the  interior  buildings  were 
all  of  wood,  a  rude  lire  engine  was  constructed,  to  ex- 
tinguish any  flames  which  might  be  kindled  by  the  burn- 
ing arrows   of  the   Indians.      Several   weeks,  however, 
elaps'  1  without  any  determined  attack  from  the  eneniy] 
who  were  engaged  in  their  bloody  work  among  the  settle- 
ments and  smaller  posts.     From  the  beginning  of  July 
until  towards  *its  close,  nothing  occurred  except  a  series  of 
petty  and  futile  attacks,  by  which  the  Indians  abundantly 
exhibited  their  malicious  intentions,  without  doing  harm  to 
the  garrison.     During  the  whole  of  this  time,  the  com- 
munications with  the  settlements  wiis  completely  cut  off, 
so  that  no  letters  were  written  from  the  fort,  or,  at  all 
events,    none    reached  their  destination;    and  we    are 
therefore  left  to  depend  upon   a  few  meagre  official  re- 
ports, as  our  only  sources  of  information. 

On  the  twenty-sixth  of  July,  a  small  party  of  Indians 
was  seen  approaching  the  gate,  displaying  a  flag,  which 

Garrison  :  and  News  is  brouglib  in  of  two  Men  being  killed.— 
Eight  o'clock.  Two  Men  are  brought  in,  alive,  tomahawked 
and  scalped  more  than  Half  the  Head  over—Our  Parade  just 
now  presents  a  Scene  of  bloody  and  savage  Cruelty  ;  three  Men, 
two  of  which  are  in  the  Bloom  of  Life,  the  other  an  old  man, 
lying  scalped  (two  of  them  still  alive)  thereon:  Any  tiling 
feigned  in  the  most  fabulous  Romance,  cannot  parallel  the 
horrid  Sight  now  before  me  ;  the  Gashes  the  poor  People  bear  are 
most  terrifying.— Ten  o'clock.  They  are  just  expired— One  of 
them,  after  being  tomahawked  and  scalped,  ran  a  little  way,  and 
•  'V  -„-.i  «  xjCru  111  irii.  v^ivjf^iiaiis  xauuso,  where  he  L.y  till  founa  by 
a  Party  of  the  Garrison." 


DANGER  OF  FORT  PITT. 


283 


one  of  them  had  some  time  before  received  as  a  present 
from  the  English  commander.  On  the  strength  of  this 
token,  they  were  admitted,  and  proved  to  be  chiefs  of  dis- 
tinction ;  among  whom  were  Shingas,  Turtle's  Heart,  and 
others,  who  had  hitherto  maintained  an  appearance  of 
friendship.  Being  admitted  to  a  council,  one  of  them 
addressed  Captain  Ecuyer  and  his  officers  to  the  follow- 
ing effect : — 

"  Brothers,  what  we  are  about  to  say  comes  from  our 
hearts,  and  not  from  our  lips. 

"  Brothers,  we  wish  to  hold  fast  to  the  chain  of  friend- 
ship— that  ancient  chain  which  our  forefathers  held  with 
their  brethren  the  English.  You  have  let  your  end  of 
the  chain  fall  to  the  ground,  but  ours  is  still  fast  within 
our  hands.  Why  do  you  complain  that  our  young  men 
have  fired  at  your  soldiers,  and  killed  your  cattle  and 
your  horses  ?  You  yourselves  are  the  cause  of  this.  You 
marched  your  armies  into  our  country,  and  built  forts 
here,  though  we  told  you,  again  and  again,  that  we  wished 
you  to  remove.  My  brothers,  this  land  is  ours,  and  not 
yours. 

"  My  brothers,  two  days  ago  we  received  a  great  belt 
of  wampum  from  the  Ottawas  of  Detroit,  and  the  message 
they  sent  us  was  in  these  words : — 

" '  Grandfathers  the  Delawares,  by  this  belt  we  inform 
you  that  in  a  short  time  we  intend  to  pass,  in  a  very  great 
body,  through  your  country,  on  our  way  to  strike  the 
English  at  the  forks  of  the  Ohio.  Grandfathers,  you 
know  us  to  be  a  headstrong  people.  We  are  determined 
to  stop  at  nothing,  and  as  we  expect  to  be  very  hungry, 
we  will  seize  and  eat  up  everything  that  comes  in  our 
way.'  * 

"  Brothers,  you  have  heard  the  words  oi  the  Ottawas. 
If  you  leave  this  place  immediately,  and  go  home  to  your 
wives  and  children,  no  harm  will  come  of  it ;  but  if  you 


;iiu 


*  This  is  a  common  Indian  metaphor. 
is,  in  their  phrase,  to  eat  him  up. 


To  destroy  an  enemy 


^^^Btm  f^^ ' 

• 

HS-'i  'fl 

^^^K      t'l 

l^^H  1  '  ^1 

»  Wf 


284 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


may 


stay,  you  must  blame  yourselves  alone  for  what 
happen.     Therefore  we  desire  you  to  remove." 

To  the  very  just  and  reasonable  statement  of  wrongs 
contained  in  this  speech,  Captain  Ecuyer  replied,  by  urg- 
ing  the  shallow  pretence  that  the  forts  were  built  for  the 
purpose  of  supplying  the  Indians  with  clothes  and  am- 
munition.    He  then  absolutely  refused  to  leave  the  place. 
« I  have,"  he  said,  «  warriors,  provision,  and  ammunition, 
to  defend  it  three  years  against  all  the  Indians  in  the 
woods ;  and  we  shall  never  abandon  it  as  long  as  a  white 
man  lives  in  America.    I  despise  the  Ottawas,  and  am 
very  much  surprised  at  our  brothers  the  Delawares,  for 
proposing  to  us  to  leave  this  place  and  go  home.     This  is 
our  home.     You  have  attacked  us  without  reason  or  prov- 
ocation ;  you  have   murdered  and  plundered   our   war- 
riors and  traders ;  you  have  taken  our  horses  and  cattle ; 
and  at  the  same  time  you  tell  us  your  hearts  are  good 
towards   your  brethren  the  English.    How  can  I  have 
faith  in  you  ?    Therefore,  now,  brothers,  I  will  advise  you 
to  go  home  to  your  towns,  and  take  care  of  your  wives 
and  children.     Moreover,  I  tell  you  that  if  any  of  you 
appear  again  about  this  fort,  I  will  throw  bombshells, 
which  will  burst  and  blow  you  to  atoms,  and  fire  cannon 
among  you,   loaded   with   a  whole   bag  full  of  bullets. 
Therefore  take  care,  for  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you." 

The  chiefs  departed  much  displeased  with  their  re- 
ception. Though  the  course  pursued  by  Captain  Ecuyer 
was  a  wise  and  justifiable  one,,  and  though  the  building 
of  forts  in  the  Indian  country  could  not  in  this  instance 
be  chnrged  as  a  crime,  except  by  the  most  overstrained 
casuistry,  yet  we  cannot  refrain  from  sympathizing  with 
the  intolerable  hardship  to  which  the  progress  of  civil- 
ization subjected  the  unfortunate  tenants  of  the  wilder- 
ness, and  which  goes  far  to  extenuate  the  perfidy  and 
cruelty  which  marked  their  conduct  throughout  the  whole 
course  of  the  war. 

T)iapr»r»r»inho/1     /->f  o«r>ini»^«.    ^    "Ul^^Ji^ — i__        j?    xi- _  H 

~ ..^.-.,,.,.vv».    vj'l  gciiijj.iigi    a,    uiuuuiCSS    pUK«US«lUU    OI    UlU  B 

fort,  the  Indians  now,  for  the  first  time,  began  a  general 


ATTACK  ON  FORT  PITT. 


285 


attack.  On  the  night  succeeding  the  conference,  they 
approached  in  great  multitudes,  under  cover  of  the  dark- 
ness and  completely  surrounded  it ;  many  of  them  crawl- 
ing beneath  the  banks  of  the  two  rivers,  which  ran  close 
to  the  rampart,  and,  with  incredible  perseverance,  digging, 
with  their  knives,  holes  in  which  they  were  completely 
sheltered  from  the  fire  of  the  fort.  On  one  side,  the 
whole  bank  was  lined  with  these  burrows,  from  each  of 
which  a  bullet  or  an  arrow  was  shot  out  whenever  a  sol- 
dier chanced  to  expose  his  head.  At  daybreak,  a  general 
fire  was  opened  from  every  side,  and  continued  without 
intermission  until  night,  and  through  several  succeeding 
days.  Meanwhile;  the  women  and  children  were  pent  up 
in  the  crowded  barracks,  terror-stricken  at  the  horrible 
din  of  the  assailants,  and  watching  the  fire-arrows  as  they 
came  sailing  over  the  parapet,  and  lodging  against  the 
roofs  and  sides  of  the  buildings.  In  every  instance,  the 
fire  they  kindled  was  extinguished.  One  of  the  garrison 
was  killed,  and  seven  wounded.  Among  the  latter  was 
Captain  Ecuyer,  who,  freely  exposing  himself,  received 
an  arrow  in  the  leg.  At  length,  an  event  hereafter  to  be 
described  put  an  end  to  the  attack,  and  drew  off  the  as- 
sailants from  the  neighborhood  of  the  fort,  to  the  un- 
speakable relief  of  the  harassed  soldiers,  exhausted  as  they 
were  by  several  days  of  unintermitted  vigilance.* 


'■!-f-i&-^=.E  :5a 


*  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter — Colonel  Bouquet  to  Sir  J.  Am- 
herst. 


"  Fort  Pitt,  nth  Aug,  1788. 


Sir 


"  We  Arrived  here  Yesterday,  without  further  Opposition  than 
Scattered  Shots  along  the  Road. 

"  The  Delawares,  Shawnese,  Wiandots,  &  Mingoes  had  closely 
Beset,  and  Attacked  this  Fort  from  the  37th  July,  to  the  First 
Instant,  when  they  Quitted  it  to  March  against  us. 

"  The  Boldness  of  those  Savages  is  hardly  Credible  ;  they  had 
taken  Post  under  the  Banks  of  Both  Rivers,  <  lose  to  the  Fort, 
where  Digging  Holes,  they  kept  an  Incessant  Fire,  and  threw 
Fire  Arrows :  They  are  good  Marksmen,  and  though  our  People 
were  under  Cover,  they  Killed  one,  &  Wounded  seven.— Captain 


1-^ 


V  <i 


286 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Ecuyer  is  Wourded  in  the  Leg  by  an  Arrow. — I  Would  not  Do 
Justice  to  thai  Officer,  should  I  omit  to  Inform  Your  Excellency, 
that,  without  Engineer,  or  any  other  Artificers  than  a  few  Ship 
Wrights,  he  has  Raised  a  Parapet  of  Logs  round  the  Fort,  above 
the  Old  One,  which  having  not  been  Finished,  was  too  Low,  and 
Enfiladed  ;  He  has  Traised  the  Whole ;  Palisadoed  the  Inside  of 
the  Aria,  Constructed  a  Fire  Engine  ;  and  in  short,  has  taken  all 
Precautions,  which  Art  and  Judgement  could  suggest  for  the  Pres- 
ervation of  this  Post,  open  before  on  the  three  sides,  which  had 
suffered  by  the  Floods." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE  WAR  ON  THE  BORDERS. 


Along  the  western  frontiers  of  Pennsylvania,  Mary- 
land, and  Virginia,  terror  reigned  supreme.  The  Indian 
scalping-parties  were  ranging  everywhere,  laying  waste 
the  settlements,  destroying  the  harvests,  and  butchering 
men,  women,  and  children,  with  ruthless  fury.  Many, 
hundreds  of  wretched  fugitives  flocked  for  refuge  to 
Carlisle  and  the  other  towns  of  the  border,  bringing  tales 
of  inconceivable  horror.  Strong  parties  of  armed  men, 
who  went  out  to  reconnoitre  the  country,  found  every 
habitation  reduced  to  cinders,  and  the  half-burned  bodies 
of  the  inmates  lying  among  the  smouldering  ruins ;  while 
here  and  there  was  seen  some  miserable  wretch,  scalped 
and  tomahawked,  but  still  alive  and  conscious.  One 
writing  from  the  midst  of  these  scenes  declares  that,  in 
his  opinion,  a  thousand  families  were  driven  from  their 
homes ;  that,  on  both  sides  of  the  Susquehanna,  the  woods 
were  filled  with  fugitives,  without  shelter  and  without 
food ;  and  that,  unless  the  havoc  were  speedily  checked, 
the  western  part  of  Pennsylvania  would  be  totally  de- 
serted, and  Lancaster  become  the  frontier  town. 

While  these  scenes  were  enacted  on  the  borders  of  Penn- 
sylvania and  the  more  southern  provinces,  the  settlers  in 
the  valley  of  the  Mohawk,  and  even  along  the  Hudson, 
were  menaced  with  destruction.  Had  not  the  Six  Nations 
been  kept  tranquil  by  the  strenuous  exertions  of  Sir 
William  Johnson,  results  must  have  ensued  too  disastrous 
to  contemplate.  The  Senecas  and  a  few  of  the  Cayugas 
were  the  only  members  of  the  confederacy  who  took  part 
in  the  war.    Venanero,  as  we  have  seen,  was  destroyed 

ii87 


288 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


If  ■> 


i 


frt  -    I 


jy  a  party  of  Senecas,  who  soon  after  made  a  feeble  at- 
tack upon  Niagara.  They  blockaded  it,  for  a  few  days, 
with  no  other  effect  than  that  of  confining  the  garrison 
within  the  walls,  and,  soon  despairing  of  success,  aban- 
doned the  attempt. 

In  tho  mean  time,  tidings  of  disaster  on  disaster  came 
m  from  the  westward.     The  siege  of  Detroit,  and  the  cap- 
ture of  post  after  post,  followed  each  other  in  quick  succes- 
sion, until  it  became  known  that  nine  forts  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy ;  and  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  was 
foi-ced  to  the  reluctant  conclusion  that  the  tribes  had  risen 
in  a  general  insurrection.     The  regions  lately  won  from  the 
French,  with  so  much  blood  and  treasure,  were  suddenly 
snatched  from  the  hands  of  the  conquerors ;  and  this,  too, 
at  a  time  when,  from  the  want  of  troops,  it  was  extremely 
difficult  to  retrieve  the  losr.     The  few  regiments  lately 
arrived  from  the  West  Indb::  were  so  reduced  that  most 
of  them  numbered  less  than  a  hundred  feeble  and  sickly 
men.     By  combining  these  fragments  and  collecting,  from 
the  less  important  garrisons,  ind  even  from  the  hospitals, 
every  soldier  capable  of  bearing  a  musket,  a  small  force 
was  with  difficulty  brought  together.     All  that  could  im- 
mediately be  done  was  to  strengthen  the  posts  which  still 
held  out,  reserving  more  active  operations  for  the  future. 
A  reenforcement  was  accordingly  thrown  into  Niagara, 
and  a  detachment,  under  Captain  Dalzell,  sent  up  to  De- 
troit.    The  unfortunate  issue  of  this  expedition,  the  sally 
in  the  night  against  the  camp  of  Pontiac,  the  surprise  and 
defeat  of  the  English,  and  the  death  of  Dalzell,  have  been 
already  described. 

While  these  movements  were  made  in  the  direction  of 
Detroit,  it  was  equally  necessary  to  send  troops  to  Fort 
Pitt,  as  that  post,  though  its  commander  had  assured  the 
Indians  to  the  contrary,  was  but  ill-supplied  with  provi- 
sion.  With  the  first  news  of  hostilities  in  that  quarter, 
orders  were  therefore  sent  to  Colonel  Bouquet,  who  com- 
manded  at  Philadelphiaj  to  assemble  as  lar^-e  a  force  as 
possible,  and  cross  the  Alleghanies  with  a  convoy  of  pro- 


ALARM  AT  CARLISLE. 


289 


vision  and  ammunition.  With  every  effort,  no  more  than 
five  hundred  men  could  be  collected  for  this  service. 
They  consisted  chiefly  of  Highlanders  of  the  42d  Regiment, 
which  had  suffered  less  than  most  of  the  other  corps,  from 
West  Indian  exposure.  Having  sent  agents  to  the  frontier 
to  collect  horses,  wagons,  and  supplies.  Bouquet  soon  after 
followed  with  the  troops,  and  reached  Carlisle  about  the 
first  of  July.  He  found  the  whole  country  in  a  panic. 
Every  building  in  the  fort,  every  house,  barn,  and  hovel  in 
the  little  town,  was  crowded  with  the  families  of  settlers, 
driven  from  their  homes  by  the  terror  of  the  Indian  toma- 
hawk. None  of  the  enemy,  however,  had  yet  appeared  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  the  people  flattered  themselves  that 
their  ravages  would  be  confined  to  the  other  side  of  the 
mountains.  Whoever  ventured  to  predict  the  contrary 
drew  upon  himself  the  indignation  of  the  whole  commu- 
nity. 

On  Sunday,  the  third  of  July,  an  incident  occurred  which 
redoubled  the  alarm.  A  soldier,  riding  express  from  Fort 
Pitt,  galloped  into  the  town,  and  alighted  to  water  his 
horse  at  the  well  in  the  centre  of  the  place.  A  crowd  of 
countrymen  were  instantly  about  him,  eager  to  hear  the 
news.  "  Presqu'Isle,  Le  Boeuf,  and  Venango  are  taken, 
and  the  Indians  will  be  here  soon."  Such  was  the  sub- 
stance of  the  man's  reply,  as,  remounting  in  haste,  he  rode 
on  to  make  his  report  at  the  camp  of  Bouquet.  All  was 
now  consternation  and  excitement.  Messengers  hastened 
out  to  spread  the  tidings,  and  every  road  and  pathway 
leading  into  Carlisle  was  beset  with  the  flying  settlers, 
flocking  thither  for  refuge.  Soon  rumors  were  heard  that 
the  Indians  were  come.  Some  of  the  fugitives  had  seen 
the  smoke  of  burning  houses  rising  from  the  valleys,  and 
these  reports  were  fearfully  confirmed  by  the  appearance 
of  miserable  wretches,  who  half  frantic  with  grief  and  dis- 
may, had  fled  from  the  sight  of  blazing  dwellings  and 
slaughtered  families.  A  party  of  the  inhabitants  armed 
themselves  and  went  out,  to  warn  tlie  living  and  bury 
the  dead.    Reaching  Shearman's  Valley,  they  found  fields 

19 


m 


iM- 


i  i 


•WJ*! 

■ 

,   !    ,    , 

'  !  '  '. 

i      ' 
1     'i 

^^R 

1      ' 

^^^H 

'   \":i 

^^1 

!     I 

f     ' 

j||^H 

290 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


"PP^W, 


laid  waste,  stacked  wheat  on  fire,  and  the  houses  yet  in 
flames,  and  they  grew  sick  v/ith  horror,  at  seeing  a  group 
of  hogs  tearing  and  devouring  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  As 
they  advanced  up  the  valley,  everything  betokened  the 
recent  presence  of  the  enemy,  while  columns  of  smoke, 
rising  among  the  surrounding  mountains,  showed  how 
general  was  the  work  of  destruction. 

On  the  previous  day,  six  men,  assembled  for  reaping 
the  harvest,  had  been  seated  at  dinner  at  the  house  of 
Campbell,  a  settler  on  the  Juniata.     Four  or  five  Indians 
suddenly  burst  the  door,  fired  among  them,  and  then  beat 
down  the  survivors  with  the  butts  of  their  rifles.     One 
young  man  leaped  from  his  seat,  snatched  a  gun  which 
stood  in  a  corner,  discharged  it  into  the  breast  of  the  war- 
rior who  was  rushing  upon  him,  and,  leaping  through  an 
open  window,  ipade  his  escape.    He  fled  through  the  forest 
to  a  settlement  at  some  distance,  where  he  related  his 
story.     Upon  this,  twelve  young  men  volunteered  to  cross 
the  mountain,  and  warn  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighbor- 
ing Tuscarora  valley.     On  entering  it,  they  found  that  the 
enemy  had  been  there  before  them.     Some  of  the  houses 
were  on  fire,  while  others  were  still  standing,  with  no  ten- 
ants but  the  dead.     Under   the  shed  of  a  farmer,   the 
Indians  had  been  feasting  on  the  flesh  of  the  cattle  they 
had  killed,  and  the  meat  had  not  yet  grown  cold.    Pur- 
suing their  course,  the  white  men  found  the  spot  Avhere 
several  detached  parties  of  the  enemy  had  united  almost 
immediately  before,  and  they  boldly  resolved  to  follow,  in 
order  to  ascertain  what  direction  the  marauders  had  taken. 
The  trail  led  them  up  a  deep  and  woody  pass  of  the  Tus- 
carora.    Here  the  yell  of  the  war-whoop  and  the  din  of 
firearms  suddenly  greeted  them,  and  five  of  their  number 
were  shot  down.     Thirty  warriors  rose  from  their  ambus- 
cade, and  rushed  upon  them.     Th<3y  gave  one  discharge, 
scattered,  and  ran  for  their  lives.     One  of  them,  a  boy 
named  Charles  Eliot,  as  he  fled,  plunging  through  the 
thickets,  heard  an  Indian  tearing  the  boughs  behind  bim, 
in  furious  pursuit.    He  seized  his  powder-horn,  poured 


THE  DYING  BORDERER. 


291 


the  contents  at  random  down  the  muzzle  of  his  gun, 
threw  in  a  bullet  after  them,  without  using  the  ramrod, 
and,  wheeling  about,  discharged  the  piece  into  the  breast 
of  his  pursuer.  He  saw  the  Indian  shrink  back  and  roll 
over  into  the  bushes.  He  continued  his  flight;  but  a 
moment  after,  a  voice  earnestly  called  his  name.  Turning 
to  the  spot,  he  saw  one  of  his  comrades  stretched  helpless 
upon  the  ground.  This  man  had  been  mortally  wounded 
at  the  first  fire,  but  had  fled  a  few  rods  from  the  scene  of 
blood,  before  his  strength  gave  out.  Eliot  approached 
him.  "Take  my  gun,"  said  the  dying  frontiersman. 
"Whenever  you  see  an  Indian,  kill  him  with  it,  and 
then  I  shall  be  satistied."  *  Eliot,  with  several  others  of 
the  party,  escaped,  and  finally  reached  Carlisle,  where  his 
story  excited  a  spirit  of  uncontrollable  wrath  and  venge- 
ance among  the  fierce  backwoodsmen.  Several  parties 
went  out,  and  one  of  them,  commanded  by  the  sheriff  of 
the  place,  encountered  a  band  of  Indians,  routed  them 
after  a  sharp  fight,  and  brought  in  several  scalps,  f 

The  surrounding  country  was  by  this  time  completely 
abandoned  by  the  settlers,  many  of  whom,  not  content 
with  seeking  refuge  at  Carlisle,  continued  their  flight  to 

*  Robison,  Narrative.  Robison  was  one  of  the  party,  and  his 
brother  was  mortally  wounded  at  the  first  fire, 
t  Extract  from  a  Letter— Carlisle,  July  13,  (Penn.  Gaz.  No  1804.) 
"  Last  Night  Colonel  Armstrong  returned.  He  left  the  Party, 
who  pursued  further,  and  found  several  dead  whom  they  buried 
in  the  best  manner  they  could,  and  are  now  all  returned  in. — 
From  what  appears,  the  Indians  are  travelling  from  one  Place  to 
another,  along  the  Valley,  burning  the  Farms,  and  destroying  all 
the  People  they  meet  with.— This  Day  gives  an  Account  of  six 
more  being  killed  in  the  Valley,  so  that,  since  last  Sunday  Morn- 
ing to  this  Day,  Twelve  o'clock,  we  have  a  pretty  authentic  Ac- 
count of  the  Number  slain,  being  Twenty-five,  and  four  or  five 
wounded.— The  Colonel,  Mr.  Wilson,  and  Mr.  Alricks,  are  now  on 
the  Parade  endeavoring  to  raise  another  Party,  to  go  out  and  suc- 
cour the  Sheriff  and  his  Party,  consisting  of  Fifty  Men,  which 
marched  Yesterday,  and  hope  they  will  be  able  to  send  off  imme- 
diately Twenty  good  Men. — The  People  here,  I  assure  you,  want 
nothing  but  a  good  Leadev,  and  a  little  Encouragement,  to  make 
a  very  good  Defence." 


i'  l»  'l! 


i    -ji 


292 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


1%' 


'f 


*iPP| 


the  eastward,  and,  headed  by  the  clergyman  of  that  place, 
pushed  on  to  Lancaster,  and  even  to  Philadelphia.*  Car- 
lisle presented  a  most  deplorable  spectacle.  A  multitude 
of  the  refuge  es,  unable  to  ftnd  shelter  in  the  town,  had 
encamped  in  the  woods  or  on  the  adjacent  fields,  erecting 
huts  of  branches  and  bark,  and  living  on  such  charity  as 
the  slender  means  of  the  townspeople  could  supply.  Pass- 
ing among  them,  one  would  have  witnessed  every  form  of 
human  misery.  In  these  wretched  encampments  were 
men,  women,  and  children,  bereft  at  one  stroke  of  friends, 
of  home,  and  the  means  of  supporting  life.  Some  stood 
aghast  and  bewildered  at  the  sudden  and  fatal  blow; 
others  were  sunk  in  the  apathy  of  despair ;  others  were 
weeping  and  moaning  with  irrepressible  anguish.  With 
not  a  few,  the  craven  passion  of  fear  drowned  all  other 
emotion,  and  day  and  night  they  were  haunted  with 
visions  of  the  bloody  knife  and  the  reeking  scalp ;  while 
in  others,  every  faculty  was  absorbed  by  the  burning 
thirst  for  vengeance,  and  mortal  hatred  against  the  whole 
Indian  race.f 

*  Extract  from  a  Letter— Carlisle,  July  5,  (Haz.  Pa.  Reg.  IV. 
390.) 

"  Nothing  could  exceed  the  terror  which  prevailed  from  house 
to  house,  from  town  to  town.  The  road  was  near  covered  witli 
women  and  children,  flying  to  Lancaster  and  Philadelphia.    The 

Rev. ,  Pastor  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  went  at  the  head 

of  his  congregation,  to  protect  and  encourage  them  on  the  way. 
A  few  retired  to  the  Breast  works  for  safety.  The  alarm  once 
given  could  not  be  appeased.  We  have  done  all  that  men  can  do 
to  prevent  disorder.    All  our  hopes  are  turned  upon  Bouquet." 

t  Extract  from  a  Letter— Carlisle,  July  12,  (Penn,  Gaz.  No. 
1804.) 

"I  embrace  this  first  Leisure,  since  Yesterday  Morning,  to 
transmit  you  a  brief  Account  of  our  present  State  of  Affairs  liere, 
which  indeed  is  very  distressing ;  every  Day,  almost,  affording 
some  fresh  Object  to  awaken  the  Compassion,  alarm  the  Fears, 
or  kindle  into  Resentment  and  Vengeance  every  sensible  Breast, 
while  flying  Families,  obliged  to  abandon  House  and  Possession, 
to  save  their  Lives  by  an  hasty  Escape  ;  mourning  Widows,  be- 
wailing *r<iir  Husbands  surprised  and  massacred  by  savage  Rage ; 
tender        jnts,  lamenting  the  Fruits  of  their  own  Bodies,  cropt 


SCENES  AT  CARLISLE. 


298 


in  the  very  Bloom  of  Life  by  a  ba»*barou8  Hand  ;  with  Relations 
and  Acquaintanceu,  pouring  out  Sorrow  for  murdered  Neigh- 
bours and  Friends,  present  a  varied  Scene  of  mingled  Distress. 

"To-day  a  British  Vengeance  begins  to  rise  in  the  Breasts  of 
our  Men. — One  of  them  that  fell  from  among  the  18,  as  he  was 
just  expiring,  said  to  one  of  his  Fellows,  Here,  take  my  Gun,  and 
kill  the  first  Indian  you  see,  and  all  shall  be  well." 


I    ; 


I  if 


ti 


4 


in-' 


Iff 


CHAPTER  XX. 


THE  BATTLE  OP  BUSHY  RUN. 


U  . 


■"i 


The  miserable  multitude  were  soon  threatened  with 
famine,  and  gathered  in  crowds  around  the  tents  >f 
Bouquet,  soliciting  relief,  which  he  v/as  too  humane  to 
refuse.  In  the  mean  time,  the  march  of  the  little  army 
had  been  delayed  beyond  expectation,  since,  from  the 
terror  and  flight  of  the  inhabitants,  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  collect  upon  the  frontier  the  necessary  horses, 
wagons,  and  provision.  Recourse  was  had  to  the  settle- 
ments farther  eastward ;  and,  after  the  lapse  of  eighteen 
days,  every  obstacle  being  now  overcome,  Bouquet  broke 
up  his  camp,  and  set  forth  on  his  dubious  enterprise.  As 
the  troops,  with  their  heavy  convoy,  defiled  through  the 
street  of  Carlisle,  the  people  crowded  to  look  on,  not  with 
the  idle  curiosity  of  rustics,  gazing  on  an  unwonted  mili- 
tary spectacle,  but  with  the  anxious  hearts  of  men  whose 
all  was  at  stake  on  the  issue  of  the  expedition.  The 
haggard  looks  and  thin  frames  of  these  worn-out  veterans 
Allied  them  with  blackest  forebodings ;  nor  were  these 
diminished  when  they  beheld  sixty  invalid  soldiers,  who, 
unable  to  walk,  were  borne  forward  in  wa  r(ns  to  furji^ii 
a  feeble  reenforcemen.  to  the  small  g  jtisgiis  along  the 
route.  The  desponding  spectators  watched  the  last  gleam 
of  the  bayonets,  as  the  rear-guard  entered  the  v/oods,  and 
then  returned  to  their  hovels,  prepared  for  tidings  of 
defeat,  and  ready,  on  the  first  news  of  the  disaster,' to 
desert  the  country  and  fly  beyond  the  Susquehanna. 

lu  truth,  the  adventure  would  have  seemed  desperate 
tu  ciiiy  uUt  Lilu  iiiauiicsi/  iieuri.  in  iiuxit  iay  u,  vuKt  wUuer- 
ness,  terrible  alike  from  its  own  stern  features  and  the 
294 


DEPARTURE  OF  BOUQUET. 


295 


ferocious  enemy  who  haunted  its  recesses.  Among  these 
forests  lay  the  l)ones  of  Braddoclc  iuid  tlie  hundreds  who 
fell  with  him.  The  number  of  the  slain  on  that  bloody 
day  exceeded  the  whole  force  of  Bou(iuet,  while  the 
strength  of  the  assailants  was  far  inferior  to  that  of  the 
swarms  who  now  infested  the  woods.  Except  a  few 
rangers,  whom  Bou(iuet  had  gathered  on  the  fiuutier,  the 
troops  were  utterly  unused  to  the  forest  service ;  a  service, 
the  terrors,  hardships,  and  vicissitudes  of  which  seldom 
find  a  i-irallel  in  che  warfare  of  civilized  nations.  Fully 
appreciating  the  courage  of  the  frontiersmen,  their  excel- 
lence as  marksmen,  and  their  knowledge  of  the  woods. 
Bouquet  had  endeavored  to  engage  a  body  of  them  to  ac- 
company the  expedition;  but  they  preferred  to  remain 
fov  the  immediate  defence  of  their  families  and  friends, 
rather  than  embark  in  a  distant  and  doubtful  adventure. 
The  results  involved  in  the  enterprise  were  altogether 
disproportioned  to  the  small  numbers  engaged  in  it ;  and 
it  was  happy,  not  only  for  the  troops,  but  also  for  the 
colonies,  that  the  officer  in  command  presented,  in  every 
respect,  a  marked  contrast  to  his  perverse  and  wrong- 
headed  predecessor  Braddock. 

Henry  Bouquet  was  by  birth  a  Swiss,  of  the  canton  of 
Berne.  His  military  life  began  while  he  was  yet  a  boy. 
He  held  a  commission  in  the  army  of  the  King  of  Sar- 
dinia ;  but  when  the  war  between  France  and  England 
broke  out,  hi  1755,  he  was  engaged  in  the  service  of  the 
States  of  Holland.  At  ^his  time,  a  plan  was  formed, 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  to  organize 
a  corps  to  serve  in  the  provinces,  and  to  be  called  the 
Royal  Americans.  The  commissions  were  to  be  given  to 
foreigners,  as  well  as  to  Englishmen  and  provincials, 
while  the  ranks  were  to  be  filled  chiefly  from  the  German 
emigrants  in  Pennsylvania  and  other  provinces.  Bouquet 
was  induced  to  accept  the  commission  of  lieutenant- 
colonel  in  this  regiment ;  and  his  services  soon  proved  of 
the  utmost  value,  since  his  military  talents  and  personal 
character  were  alike  fitted  to  command  respect  and  con- 


I  -4 


^  J  si; 


*        ' 


t"--  - 1 


I-  t 


nl 


296 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


fldence.  His  person  was  fine,  his  bearing  composed  and 
dignified.  In  the  provinces,  and  especially  in  Penn- 
sylvania, he  was  held  in  the  highest  esteem.  He  was  a 
master  of  the  English  language,  writing  in  a  style  of 
great  purity ;  and  though  enthusiastic  in  the  study  of  bis 
profession,  his  tastes  led  him  to  frequent  the  society  of 
men  of  science  and  literature.  .  As  a  soldier,  he  was  dis- 
tinguished by  great  activity,  an  unshaken  courage,  and  an 
unfailing  fertility  of  resource ;  while  to  these  qualities 
he  added  a  power  of  adaptation  which  had  been  lament- 
ably wanting  in  some  of  the  English  officers  who  preceded 
him.  He  had  acquired  a  practical  knowledge  of  Indian 
warfare,  and  it  is  said  that,  in  Ihe  course  of  the  hazardous 
partisan  service  in  which  he  was  often  engaged,  when  it 
was  necessary  to  penetrate  dark  defiles  and  narrow  passes, 
he  was  sometimes  known  to  advance  before  his  men, 
armed  with  a  rifle,  and  acting  the  part  of  a  scout. 

The  route  of  the  army  lay  along  the  beautiful  Cum- 
beiiand  Valley.  Passing  here  and  there  a  few  scattered 
cabins,  deserted  or  burnt  to  the  ground,  they  reached  the 
hamlet  of  Shippensburg,  somewhat'  more  than  twenty 
miles  from  their  point  of  departure.  Here,  as  at  Carlisle, 
was  congregated  a  starving  nuiltitude,  who  had  fled  from 
the  knife  and  the  tomahawk.* 

By  the  last  advices  from  the  westward,  it  appeared 
that  Fort  Ligonier,  situated  beyond  the  Alleghanies,  was 
in  imminent  danger  of  falling  into  the  enemy's  hands 
before  the  army  could  come"  up ;  for  its  defences  were 
slight,  its  garrison  was  feeble,  and  the  Indians  had  as- 
sailed it  with  repeated  attacks.  The  magazine  which  the 
place  contained  made  it  of  such  importance  that  Bouquet 
resolved  at  all   hazards  to   send  a   party   to  its  relief. 


*  "  Our  Accounts  from  the  westward  are  as  follows,  viz  : — 
"  On  the  25th  of  Jul}'  there  were  in  Sliippensburgh  1384  of  our 
poor  distressed  Back  Inhabitants,  viz.  Men,  301  ;  Women, 
345  :  Children,  738  ;  Many  of  whom  were  obliged  to  lie  in  Barns, 
Stables,  Cellars,  and  under  old  leaky  Sheds,  the  Dwelling-houses 
being  all  crowded."— Penw.  Oaz.  No.  1806. 


MARCH  OF  BOUQUET. 


297 


Thirty  of  the  best  men  were  accordingly  chosen,  and  or- 
dered to  push  forward  with  the  utmost  speed,  by  unfre- 
uented  routes  through  the  forests  and  over  the  moun- 
t^ains,  carefully  avoiding  the  road,  which  would  doubtless 
be  infested  by  the  enemy.  The  party  set  out  on  their 
critical  errand,  guided  by  frontier  hunters,  and  observing 
a  strict  silence.  Using  every  precaution,  and  advancing 
by  forced  marches,  day  after  day,  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  fort  without  being  discovered.  It  was  beset  by  In- 
dians, and,  as  the  party  made  for  the  gate,  they  were  seen 
and  fired  upon  ;  but  they  threw  themselves  into  the  place 
without  the  loss  of  a  man,  and  Ligonier  was  for  the  time 
secure. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  army,  advancing  with  slower 
progress,  entered  a  country  where  as  yet  scarcely  an 
English  settler  had  built  his  cabin.  Reaching  Fort  Lou- 
don, on  the  declivities  of  Cove  Mountain,  they  ascended 
the  wood -encumbered  defiles  beyond.  Far  on  their  right 
stretched  the  green  ridges  of  the  Tuscarora,  while,  in 
front,  mountain  beyond  mountain  rose  high  against  the 
horizon.  Climbing  heights  and  descending  into  valleys, 
passing  the  two  solitary  posts  of  Littleton  and  the  Ju- 
niata, both  abandoned  by  their  garrisons,  they  came  in 
sight  of  Fort  Bedford,  hemmed  in  by  encircling  moun- 
tains. Their  arrival  gave  infinite  relief  to  the  garrison, 
who  had  long  been  beleaguered  and  endangered  by  a 
swarm  of  Indians,  while  many  of  the  settlers  in  the 
neighborhood  had  been  killed,  and  the  rest  driven  for 
refuge  into  the  fort.  Captain  Ourry,  the  commanding 
officer,  reported  that,  for  several  weeks,  nothing  had  been 
heard  from  the  westward,  every  messenger  having  been 
killed,  and  the  communication  completely  cut  off.  By 
the  last  intelligence.  Fort  Pitt  had  been  surrounded  by 
Indians,  and  daily  threatened  with  a  general  attack. 

Having  remained  encamped,  for  three  days,  on  the 
fields  near  the  fort,  Bouquet  resumed  his  march  on  the 
twenty-eighth  of  July,  and  soon  passed  beyond  the  far- 
thest verge  of  civilized  habitation.    The  whole  country 


298 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


lay  buried  in  foliage.  Except  the  rocks  which  crowned 
the  mountains,  and  the  streams  which  rippled  along 
the  valleys,  the  unbroken  forest,  like  a  vast  garment,  in- 
vested the  whole.  The  road  was  channelled  through  its 
depths,  while,  on  each  side,  the  brown  trunks  and  tangled 
undergrowth  formed  a  wall  so  dense  as  almost  to  bar  the 
sight.  Through  a  country  thus  formed  by  nature  for 
ambuscades,  not  a  step  was  free  from  danger,  and  no  pre- 
caution was  neglected  to  guard  against  surprise.  In 
advance  of  the  marching  column  moved  the  provincial 
rangers,  closely  followed  by  the  pioneers.  The  wagons 
and  cattle  were  in  the  centre,  guarded  in  front,  flank, 
and  rear  by  the  regulars,  while  a  rear-guard  of  rangers 
closed  the  line  of  march.  Keen-eyed  riflemen  of  the 
frontier,  acting  as  scouts,  scoured  the  woods  far  in  front 
and  on  either  flank,  so  that  surprise  was  impossible. 
In  this  order  the  little  army  toiled  heavily  on,  over  a  road 
beset  with  all  the  obstructions  of  the  forest,  until  the 
main  ridge  of  the  Alleghanies,  like  a  mighty  wall  of 
green,  rose  up  before  them,  and  they  began  their  zigzag 
progress  up  the  woody  heights,  amid  the  sweltering  heat 
of  July.  The  tongues  of  the  panting  oxen  hung  lolling 
from  their  jaws,  while  the  pine-trees,  scorching  in  the  hot 
sun,  diffused  their  resinous  odors  through  the  sultry  air. 
At  length,  from  the  windy  summit  the  Highland  soldiers 
could  gaze  around  upon  a  boundless  panorama  of  forest- 
covered  mountains,  wild  as  their  own  native  hills.  De- 
scending from  the  Alleghanies,  they  entered  upon  a 
country  less  rugged  and  formidable  in  itself,  but  beset 
with  constantly  increasing  dange .s.  On  the  second  of 
August,  they  reached  Fort  Ligonier,  about  fifty  miles 
from  Bedford,  and  a  hundred  and  fifty  from  Carlisle. 
The  Indians  who  were  about  the  place  vanished  at  their 
approach ;  but  the  garrison  could  furnish  no  intelligence 
of  the  motions  and  designs  of  the  enemy,  having  been 
completely  blockaded  for  weeks.  In  this  uncertainty, 
Bonqnet  resolved  to  leave  behind  the  oxen  and  wagons, 
which  formed  the  most  cumbrous  part  of  the  convoy 


UNEXPECTED  ATTACK. 


299 


since  this  would  enable  him  to  advance  with  greater  celer- 
ity, and  oppose  a  better  resistance  in  case  of  attack. 
Thus  relieved,  the  army  resumed  its  march  on  the  fourth, 
taking  with  them  three  hundred  and  fifty  pack  horses 
and  a  few  cattle,  and  at  nightfall  encamped  at  no  great 
distance  from  Ligonier.  Within  less  than  a  day's  march 
in  advance  lay  the  dangerous  defiles  of  Turtle  Creek,  a 
stream  flowing  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  hollow,  flanked 
by  steep  declivities,  along  the  foot  of  which  the  road  at 
that  time  ran  for  some  distance.  Fearing  that  the  enemy 
would  lay  an  ambuscade  at  this  place,  Bouquet  resolved 
to  march  on  the  following  day  as  far  as  a  small  stream 
called  Bushy  Run,  to  rest  here  until  night,  and  then,  by 
a  forced  march,  to  cross  Turtle  Creek  under  cover  of  the 
darkness. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fifth,  the  tents  were  struck  at  an 
early  hour,  and  the  troops  began  their  march  through  a 
country  broken  with  hills  and  deep  hollows,  everywhere 
covered  with  the  tall,  dense  forest,  which  spread  for  count- 
less leagues  aiound.  By  one  o'clock,  they  had  advanced 
seventeen  miles,  nnd  the  guides  assured  them  that  they 
were  within  half  a  mile  of  Bushy  Run,  their  proposed 
resting-place.  The  tired  soldiers  were  pressing  forward 
with  renewed  alacrity,  when  suddenly  the  report  of  rifles 
from  the  front  sent  a  thrill  along  the  ranks ;  and,  as  they 
listened,  the  firing  thickened  into  a  fierce,  sharp  rattle, 
while  shouts  and  whoops,  deadened  by  the  intervening 
forest,  showed  that  the  advanced  guard  was  hotly  engaged. 
The  two  foremost  companies  were  at  once  ordered  forward 
to  support  it ;  but  far  from  abating,  the  fire  grew  so  rapid 
and  furious  as  to  argue  the  presence  of  an  enemy  at  once 
numerous  and  resolute.  At  this,  the  convoy  was  halted, 
the  troojo  formed  into  line,  and  a  general  charge  ordered. 
Bearing  down  through  the  forest  with  fixed -bayonets, 
they  drove  the  yelping  assailants  before  them,  and  swept 
the  ground  clear.  But  at  the  very  moment  of  success,  a 
fresh  burst  of  whoops  and  firing  was  heard  from  either 
flank,  while  a  confused  noise  from  the  rear  showed  that 


].  r  't  h 


i       M'l 


>      ^    \l  1 


300 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  convoy  was  attacked.    It  was  necessary  instantly  to 
fall  back  for  its  support.     Driving  off  the  assailants,  the 
troops  formed  in  a  circle  around  the  crowded  and  terrified 
horses.     Though  they  were  new  to  the  work,  and  though 
the  numbers  and  movements  of  the  enemy,  whose  yelling 
resounded  on  every  side,  were  concealed  by  the  thick  for- 
est, yet  no  man  lost  his  composure ;  and  all  displayed  a 
steadiness  which  nothing  but  implicit  confidence  in  their 
commander  could  have  inspired.     And  now  ensued  a  com- 
bat of  a  nature  most  harassing  and  discouraging.     Again 
and  again,  now  on  this  side  and  now  on  that,  a  crowd  of 
Indians  rushed  up,  pouring  in  a  heavy  fire,  and  striving, 
with  furious  outcries,  to  break  into  th(;  circle.     A  well- 
directed  volley  met  them,  followed  by  a  steady  charge  of 
the  bayonet.     They  never  waited  an  instant  to  receive  the 
attack,  but,  le.^ping  backwards  from  tree  to  tree,  soon  van- 
ished from  sight,  only  to  renew  their  attack  with  unabated 
ferocity  in  another  quarter.     Such  was  their  activity  that 
very  few  of  them  were   hurt,  while  the   English,  less 
expert  in  bush  fighting,  suffered  severely.     Thus  the  fight 
went  on,  without  intermission,  for  seven  hours,  until  the 
forest  grew  dark  with  approaching  night.     Upon  this,  the 
Indians  gradually  slackened  their  fire,  and  the  exhausted 
soldiers  found  time  to  rest. 

It  was  impossible  to  change  their  ground  in  the  enemy's 
presence,  and  the  troops  were  obliged  to  encamp  upon  the 
hill  where  the  combat  had  taken  place,  though  not  a  drop 
of  water  was  to  be  found  theret  Fearing  a  night  attack. 
Bouquet  stationed  numerous  sentinels  and  outposts  to 
guard  against  it,  while  the  men  lay  down  upon  their  arms, 
preserving  the  order  they  had  maintained  during  the  fight. 
Having  completed  the  necessary  arrangements.  Bouquet, 
doubtful  of  surviving  the  battle  of  the  morrow,  wrote  to 
Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst,  in  a  few  clear,  concise  words,  an  ac- 
count of  the  day 's  events.  His  letter  concludes  as  follows  : 
«  Whatever  our  fate  may  be,  I  thought  it  necessary  to  give 
your  excellency  this  early  infurmation,  that  you  may,  at 
all  events,  take  such  measures  as  you  will  think  proper 


DISTRESS  AND  DANiER  OF  THE  TROOPS.        301 


with  the  provinces,  for  their  own  safety,  and  the  effectual 
reUef  of  Fort  Pitt ;  as,  in  case  of  another .  engagement,  I 
fear  insurmountable  difficulties  in  protecting  and  trans- 
porting our  provisions,  being  already  so  much  weakened 
by  the  losses  of  this  day,  in  men  and  horses,  besides  the 
additional  necessity  of  carrying  the  wounded,  whose  situ- 
ation is  truly  deplorable." 

The  condition  of  these  unhappy  men  might  well  awaken 
sympathy.     About  sixty  soldiers,  besides  several  officers, 
had  been  killed  or  disabled.     A  space  in  the  centre  of  the 
camp  was  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the  wounded,  and 
surrounded  by  a  wall  of  flour-bags  from  the  convoy,  afford- 
ing some  protection  against  the  bullets  which  flew  from 
all  sides  during  the  flght.     Here  they  lay  upon  the  ground, 
enduring  agonies  of  thirst,  and  waiting,  passive  and  help- 
less, the  issue  of  the  battle.     Deprived  of  the  animating 
thought  that  their  lives  and  safety  depended  on  their  own 
exertions ;  surrounded  by  a  wilderness,  and  by  scenes  to 
the  horror  of  which  no  degree  of  familiarity  could  render 
the  imagination  callous,  they  must  have  endured  mental 
sufferings,  compared  to  which  the  pain  of  their  wounds 
was  slight.     In  tlie  probable  event  of  defeat,  a  fate  inex- 
pressibly   horrible  awaited  them;  while    even  victory 
would  by  no  means  insure  their  safety,  since  any  great 
increase  in  their  numbers  would  render  it  impossible  for 
their  comrades  to  transport  them.     Nor  was  the  condition 
of  those  who  had  hitherto  escaped  an    enviable   one. 
Though  they  were  about  equal  in  numbers  to  their  assail- 
ants, yet  the  dexterity  and  alertness  of  the  Indians,  joined 
to  the  nature  of  the  country,  gave  all  the  advantages  of  a 
greatly  superior  force.     The  enemy  were,  moreover,  ex- 
ulting in  the  fullest  confidence  of  success ;  for  it  was  in 
these  very  forests  that,  eight  years  before,  they  had  well- 
nigh  destroyed  twice  their  number  of  the  best  British 
troops.     Throughout  the  earlier  part  of  the  night,  they 
kept  up  a  dropping  fire  upon  the  camp,  while,  at  short  in- 
tervals, a  wild  whoop  from  the  thick  surrounding  gloom 
told  with   what  fierce  eagerness   they   waited  to  glut 


f        '•!' 


irpr- 


.;:  ii 


302 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


h.: 


their  vengeance  on  the  morrow.  The  camp  remained  in 
darkness,  for  it  would  have  been  highly  dangerous  to 
build  fires  within  its  precincts,  which  would  have  served 
to  direct  the  aim  rf  the  lurking  marksmen.  Surrounded 
by  such  terrors,  the  men  snatched  a  disturbed  and  broken 
sleep,  recruiting  their  exhausted  strength  for  the  renewed 
struggle  of  the  morning. 

With  the  earliest  dawn  of  day,  and  while  the  damp, 
cool  forest  was  still  involved  in  twilight,  there  rose  around 
the  camp  a  general  burst  of  those  horrible  cries  which 
form  the  ordinary  prelude  of  an  Indian  battle.  Instantly 
from  every  side  at  once,  the  enemy  opened  their  fire,  ap- 
proaching under  cover  of  the  trees  and  bushes,  and  level- 
ling with  a  close  and  deadly  aim.  Often,  as  on  the  pre- 
vious day,  they  would  rush  up  with  furious  impetuosity, 
striving  to  br^eak  into  the  ring  of  troops.  They  were  re- 
pulsed at  every  point ;  but  the  English,  though  constantly 
victorious,  were  beset  with  undiminished  perils,  while  the 
violence  of  the  enemy  seemed  every  moment  on  the  in- 
crease. True  to  their  favorite  tactics,  they  would  never 
stand  their  ground  when  attacked,  but  vanish  at  the  first 
gleam  of  the  levelled  bayonet,  only  to  appear  again  the 
moment  the  danger  was  past.  The  troops,  fatigued  by  the 
long  march  and  equally  long  battle  of  the  previous  day, 
were  maddened  by  the  torments  of  thirst,  more  intolerable, 
says  their  commander,  than  the  fire  of  the  enemy.  They 
were  fully  conscious  of  the  peril  in  which  they  stood,  of 
wasting  away  by  slow  degrees  beneath  the  shot  of  assail- 
ants at  once  so  daring,  so  cautious,  and  so  active,  and  upon 
whom  it  was  impossible  to  inflict  any  decisive  injury 
The  Indians  saw  their  distress,  and  pressed  them  closer 
and  closer,  redoubling  their  yells  and  bowlings,  while 
some  of  them,  sheltered  behind  trees,  assailed  the  troops, 
in  bad  English,  with  abuse  and  derision. 

Meanwhile  the  interior  of  the  camp  was  a  scene  of  con- 
fusion.    The  horses,  secured  in  a  crowd  near  the  intrencli- 
ment  which  covered  the  v/ounded,  were  often  struck  by       £ 
the  bullets,  and  wrought  to  the  height  of  terror  by  the 


CONFLICT  OF  THE  SECOND  DAY. 


303 


mingled  din  of  whoops,  shrieks,  and  firing.  They  would 
break  away  by  half  scores  at  a  time,  burst  through  the 
ring  of  troops  and  the  outer  circle  of  assailants,  and  scour 
madly  up  and  down  the  hill  sides ;  while  many  of  the 
drivers,  overcome  by  the  terrors  of  a  scene  in  which  they 
could  bear  no  active  part,  hid  themselves  among  the 
bushes,  and  could  neither  hear  nor  obey  orders. 

It  was  now  about  ten  o'clock.     Oppressed  with  heat, 
fatigue,  and  thirst,  the  distressed  troops  still  maintained 
a  weary  and  wavering  defence,  encircling  the  convoy  in  a 
yet  unbroken  ring.     They  were  fast  falling  in  their  ranks, 
and  the  strength  and  spirits  of  the  survivors  had  begun 
to  flag.    If  the  fortunes  of  the  day  were  to  be  retrieved, 
the  effort  must  be  made  at  once ;  and  happily  the  mind 
of  the  commander  was  equal  to  the  emergency.     In  the 
midst  of  the  confusion  he  conceived   a  stratagem  alike 
novel  and  masterly.     Could  the  Indians  be  brought  to- 
gether in  a  body,  and  made  to  stand   their  ground  when 
attacked,  there  could  be  little  doubt  of  the  result ;  and 
to  effect  this  object.  Bouquet  determined  to  increase  their 
confidence,  which  had  already  mounted  to  an  audacious 
pitch.     Two  companies  of  infantry,  forming  a  part  of  the 
ring  which  had  been  exposed  to  the  hottest  fire,  were 
ordered  to  fall  back  into  the  interior  of  the  camp,  while 
the   troops   on  either  hand  joined  their  files  across  the 
vacant  space,  as  if  to  cover  the  retreat  of  their  comrades. 
These  orders  given  at  a  favorable  moment,  were  executed 
with  great  promptness.     The   thin  line   of   troops  who 
took  possession  of  the  deserted  part  of  the  circle,  were, 
from  their  small  numbers,  brought  closer  in  towards  the 
centre.     The  Indians  mistook  these  movements  for  a  re- 
treat.    Confidont  that  their  time  was  come,  they  leaped 
up  on  all  sides,  from  behind  the  trees  and  bushes,  and, 
with  infernal  screeches,  rushed    headlong  towards  the 
spot,   pouring  in  a  most  heavy  and  galling  fire.     The 
shock   was  too  violent  to  be  long   endured.     The  men 
struggled  to  maintain  their  posts,  but  the  Indians  seemed 
on  the  point  of  breaking  into  the  heart  ^f  the  camp,  when 


304 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  aspect  of  affairs  was  suddenly  reversed.    The  two 
companies,  who  had  apparently  abandoned  their  position, 
were  in  fact  destined  to  begin  the  attack ;  and  they  now 
sallied  out  from  the  circle  at  a  point  where  a  depression 
in  the  ground,  joined  to  the  thick  growth  of  trees,  con- 
cealed  them  from  the  eyes  of  ihe  Indians.    Making  a 
short  detour  through  the  woods,  they  came  round  ujion 
the  flank  of  the  furious  assailants,  and  discharged  a  dead- 
ly  volley  into  their  very  midst.     Numbers  were  seen  to 
fall ;  yet  though  completely  surprised,  and  utterly  at  a 
loss  to  understand  the  nature  of  the  attack,  the  Indians 
faced  about  with  the  greatest  mtrepidity,  and  boldly  re- 
turned the  fire.     But  the  Highlanders,  with  yells  as  wild 
as  their  own,  fell  on  them  with  the  bayonet.     The  shock 
was  irresistible,  and  they  fled  before  the  charging  ranks 
In  a  tumultuous  throng.     Orders  had  been  given  to  two 
other  companies,  occupying  a  contiguous  part  of  the  circle, 
to  support   the  attack    whenever  a   favorable   moment 
should  occur ;  and  they  had  therefore  advanced  a  little 
from  their  position,  and  lay  close  crouched  in  ambush. 
The  fugitive  multitude,  pressed  by  the  Highland  bayo- 
nets, passed  directly  across  their  front,  upon  which  they 
rose  and  poured  among  them  a  second  volley,  no  less  de- 
structive than  the  former.     This    completed  the   rout. 
The  four  companies,  uniting,  drove  the  flying  savages 
through  the  woods,  giving  them  no  time  to  rally  or  re- 
load their  empty  rifles,  killing  many,  and  scattering  the 
rest  in  hopeless  confusion. 

While  this  took  place  at  one  part  of  the  circle,  the 
troops  and  the  savages  had  still  maintained  their  respect- 
ive positions  at  the  other ;  but  when  the  latter  perceived 
the  total  rout  of  their  comrades,  and  sa\  the  troops  ad- 
vancing to  assail  them,  they  also  lost  heart,  and  fled. 
The  discordant  outcries  which  had  so  long  deafened  the 
ears  of  the  English  soon  ceased  altogether,  and  not  a  liv- 
ing Indian  remained  near  the  spot.  About  sixty  corpses 
lay  scattered  over  the  ground.  Among  them  were  fou  id 
those  of  several  prominent  chiefs,  while  the  blood  which 


BOUQUET  REACHES  FORT  PITT. 


305 


stained  the  leaves  of  the  hushes  showed  that  numbers 
had  fled  severely  wounded  from  the  field.  The  soldiers 
took  but  one  prisoner,  whom  they  shot  to  death  like  a 
captive  wolf.  The  loss  of  the  English  in  the  two  battles 
surpassed  that  cf  the  enemy,  amounting  to  eight  officers 
and  one  hundred  and  fifteen  men.* 

Having  been  for  some  time  detained  by  the  necessity 
of  making  litters  for  the  wounded,  and  destroying  the 
stores  which  the  flight  of  most  of  the  horses  made  it  im- 
possible to  transport,  the  army  moved  on,  in  the  after- 
noon, to  Bushy  Run.  Here  they  had  scarcely  formed 
their  camp,  when  they  were  again  fired  upon  by  a  body 
of  Indians,  who,  however,  were  soon  repulsed.  On  the 
next  day,  they  resumed  their  progress  towards  Fort  Pitt, 
distant  about  twenty-five  miles,  and  though  frequently 
annoyed  on  the  march  by  petty  attacks,  they  reached 
their  destination,  on  the  tenth,  without  serious  loss  It 
was  a  joyful  moment  both  to  the  troops  and  to  the  gar- 
rison. The  latter,  it  will  be  remembered,  were  left  sur- 
rounded and  hotly  pressed  by  the  Indians,  who  had  be- 


*  Extract  from  a  Letter — Fort  Pitt,  August  12,  (Penn.  Gaz. 
No.  1810.) 

"  We  formed  a  Circle  round  our  Convoy  and  Wounded  ;  upon 
which  the  Savages  collected  themselves,  and  continued  whoop- 
ing and  popping  at  us  all  the  Evening.  Next  Morning,  having 
mustered  all  their  Force,  they  began  the  War-whoop,  attacking 
us  in  Front,  when  the  Colonel  feigned  a  Retreat,  which  encour- 
acred  the  Indians  to  an  eager  Pursuit,  while  the  Liglit  Infantry 
and  Grenadiers  rushed  out  on  their  Right  and  Left  Flanks,  at- 
tacking them  where  they  little  expected  it ;  by  wliich  Means  a 
gieat  Number  of  them  were  killed  ;  and  among  the  rest,  Koelyus- 
kung,  a  Delawai-e  Chief,  who  the  Night  before,  and  that  Morn- 
ing, had  been  Blackguarding  us  in  English :  We  lost  one  Man 
in  the  Rear,  on  our  March  the  Day  after. 

"  In  other  Letters  from  Fort  Pitt,  it  is  meationed  that,  to  a 
Man,  they  were  resolved  to  di^fend  the  Garrison  (if  the  Troops 
had  not  arrived)  as  long  as  any  Anmiunition,  and  Provision  to 
support  them,  were  left ;  and  that  tl  en  they  would  have  fought 
their  Way  through,  or  died  in  tlie  Attempt,  rather  than  have 
b«en  made  Prisoners  by  such  perfidious,  cruel,  and  Biood-thirsty 
Hell-hounds." 
20 


30<) 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


leaguered  the  place  from  the  twenty-eighth  of  July  to  tlu> 
first  of  August,  when,  hearing  of  Houciuet's  approach, 
they  had  abandoned  the  siege,  and  marched  to  attack  him! 
From  this  time,  the  garrison  had  seen  nothing  of  them 
until  the  morning  of  the  tenth,  when,  shortly  before  the 
army  appeared,  they  had  passed  the  fort  in  a  body,  rais 
ing  the  scalp-yell,  and  dis})laying  their  disgusting  trophies 
to  the  view  of  the  English.* 
The  battle  of  Bushy  Run  was  one  of  the  best  contested 


from  a  Letter— Fort  Pitt,  August  12,  (Penn.  Gaz. 


*  Extract 
No.  1810.) 

"  As  you  will  probably  have  the   Accounts  of  these  Engage- 
ments from  the  Gentlemen  that  were  in  them,   I  shall  say  no 
more  than  this,  that  it  is  the  general  Opinion,  the  Troops  be- 
haved with  the  utmost  Intrepidity,  and  the  Indians  were  never 
known  to  behave  so  fiercely.     You  may  be  sure  the  Sight  of  the 
Iroops  was  very  agreeable  to  our  poor  Garrison,  being  penned 
up  m  the  For*  from  the  27th  of  May  to  the  9th  Instant,  and  the 
Barrack  Rooms  crammed  with  Men,  Woinen,  and  Children   tho' 
providentially  no  other   Disorder  ensued  than  the  Small-pox  - 
From  the   16th  of  June  to  the  28th  of  July,   we  were  pestered 
with  tlie  enemy  ;  sometimes   with   their  Flags,  demanding  Con- 
ferences ;  at  other  Times  threatening,  then  soothing,  and  offer- 
nig  their  Cordial  Advice,  for  us  to  evacuate  the  Place  ;  for  that 
they,  the  Delavvares,  tho'  our  dear   Friends  and  Brothers,  could 
no  longer  protect  us  from  the  Fury  of  Legions  of  other  Nations 
that  were  coming   from  the  Lakes,  &c.,    to  destroy  us.    Bnt' 
finding  that  neither  had  any  Effect  on   us,  thev  mustered  their 
whole  Force,  in  Number  about   400,  and  began  a  most  furious 
Fire  from  all  Quarters  on  the  Fort,  which  they  continued  for 
four  Days,  and  great  part  of  the  Nights,  viz.,  from  the  28th  of 
July  to  the  last.— Our  Commander  was  wounded  by  an  Arrow  in 
the  Leg,  and  no  other  Person  of  any  Note,  hurt,  tho'  the   Balls 
were  whistling  very  thick  about  our  Ears.     Nine  Rank  and  File 
wounded,  and  one  Hulings  having  his  I  eg  broke,  was  the  whole 
of  our  Loss  during  this  hot  Firing  ;  tho'  we  have  Reason  to  think 
that  we  killed  several  of  our  loving  Brethren,  notwithstanding 
their  Alertness  in  skulking  behind  the  Banks  of  the  Rivers,  &c. 
—These  Gentry,  seeing  they  could  not  take  the  Fort,  sheered  off, 
and  we  heard  no  more  of  them  till  the   Account  of  the  above 
Engagements  came  to  hand  when  we  were  convinced  that  our 
good  Brothers  did  us  this  second  Act  of  Friendship.— What  they 
intend  next,  God  knows,   but  am   afraid  they  will  disperse  in 
small  Parties,  among  the  Inhabitants,  if  not  well  defended." 


EFFECTS  OF  THE  VICTCkfiY. 


307 


actions  ever  fought  between  white  men  and  Indians.  If 
tlierci  were  any  disparity  of  nuinl)ers,  tlie  advantage  was 
on  the  side  of  the  troops,  and  the  Indians  liad  displayed 
tliroughout  a  fierceness  and  intrepidity  matched  only  by 
the  steady  valor  with  which  they  were  met.  In  the  pro- 
vinces, the  victory  excited  equal  joy  and  admiration,  more 
especially  among  those  who  knew  the  inc^alculable  diffi- 
culties of  an  Indian  campaign.  The  assembly  of  Pennsyl- 
vania passed  a  vote  expressing  their  high  sense  of  the 
merits  of  Bouciuet,  and  of  the  important  service  which  he 
had  rendered  to  the  province.  lie  soon  after  received  the 
additional  honor  of  the  formal  thanks  of  the  king. 

In  many  an  Indian  village,  the  women  cut  away  their 
hair,  gashed  their  limbs  with  knives,  and  uttered  their 
dismal  bowlings  of  lamentation  for  the  fallen.  Yet, 
though  surprised  and  dispirited,  the  rage  of  the  Indians 
was  too  deep  to  be  quenched,  even  by  so  signal  a  reverse, 
and  their  outrages  upon  the  frontier  were  resumed  with 
unabated  ferocity.  Fort  Pitt,  however,  was  effectually 
relieved,  while  the  moral  effect  of  the  victory  enabled  the 
frontier  settlers  to  encounter  the  enemy  with  a  spirit 
which  would  have  been  wanting,  had  Bouquet  sustained 
a  defeat. 


. .  i 


i    , 


ihi 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

TUB   IROQUOIS. — AMBUHCADK    OP    THE    DKVIL's    HOLE. 

While  Bouquet  was  fighting  the  battle  of  Bushy  Run, 
and  Dalzell  making  his  fatal  sortie  against  the  camp  of 
Pontiac,  Sir  William  Johnson  was  engaged  in  the  more 
pacific,  yet  more  important  task  of  securing  the  friendship 
and  alliance  of  the  Six  Nations,  After  several  preliminary 
conferences,  he  sent  runners  throughout  the  whole  con- 
federacy to  invite  deputies  of  the  several  tribes  to  meet 
him  in  council  at  Johnson  Hall.  The  request  was  not  de- 
clined. From  the  banks  of  the  Mohawk,  from  the  Oneida, 
Cayuga,  and  Tuscarora  villages,  from  the  valley  of  Onon- 
daga, where,  from  immemorial  time,  had  burned  the 
great  council-fire  of  the  confederacy,  came  chiefs  and  war- 
riors, gathering  to  the  place  of  meeting.  The  Senecas 
alone,  the  warlike  tenants  of  the  Genesee  valley,  refused 
to  attend,  for  they  were  already  in  arms  against  the  Eng- 
lish. Besides  the  Iroquois,  deputies  came  likewise  from 
the  tribes  dwelling  along  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  within 
the  settled  parts  of  Canada. 

The  council  opened  on  the  seventh  of  September.  The 
whole  assembly  wore  a  soiir  and  sullen  look;  but  ISir 
William  Johnson,  by  a  dexterous  mingling  of  reasoning, 
threats,  and  promises,  allayed  their  discontent,  and  ban- 
ished the  thoughts  of  war.  They  winced,  however,  when 
he  informed  them  that,  dnring  the  next  season,  an  Eng- 
lish army  must  pass  through  their  country,  on  its  way  to 
punish  the  refractory  tribes  of  the  west.  "  Your  foot  is 
broad  and  heavy,"  said  the  speaker  from  Onondaga ;  "  take 
care  that  you  do  not  tread  on  us."  Seeing  the  improved 
auditory,  Johnson  was  led  to  hone  for  some 


308 


nope 


EFFECT  OF  JOHNSON'S  INFLUENCE. 


309 


fiiitlier  advantage  than  that  of  mere  neutrality.  He  ac- 
(•((idingly  urged  the  IrociuoiH  to  take  up  arms  against  the 
liostile  tribes,  and  eoncluded  his  linal  harangue  with  the 
following  figurative  words :  "  I  now  deliver  you  a  gfM)d 
Eiiglisli  axe,  which  I  desire  you  will  give  to  the  warriors 
of  all  your  nations,  with  directions  to  use  it  against  these 
covenant-breakers,  by  (tutting  off  the  bad  links  which 
have  sullied  the  chain  of  friendship." 

These  words  were  conttrmed  by  the  presentation  of  a 
black  war- belt  of  wampum,  and  the  offer  of  a  hatchet, 
\vlii(!h  t)io  Iro(iuois  did  not  refuse  to  accept.  That  they 
would  take  any  very  active  and  strenuous  part  in  the  war, 
could  not  be  expected ;  yet  their  bearing  arms  at  all  would 
l)rove  of  great  advantage,  by  discouraging  the  hostile  In- 
dians who  had  looked  upon  the  Irocjuois  as  friends  and 
abetters.  Some  months  after  the  council,  several  small 
parties  actually  took  the  field,  and,  being  stimulated  by 
the  prospect  of  reward,  brought  in  a  considerable  number 
of  scalps  and  pi-isoners. 

Upon  the  persuasion  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  the  tribes 
of  C.'anada  were  induced  to  send  a  message  to  the  western 
Indians,  exhorting  them  to  bury  the  hatchet,  while  the 
Iroquois  despatched  an  embassy  of  similar  import  to  the 
Delawares  on  the  Susquehanna.  "Cousins  the  Dela- 
wares"— thus  ran  the  message— "  we  have  heard  that 
many  wild  Indians  in  the  west,  who  have  tails  like  bears, 
have  let  fall  the  chain  of  friendship,  and  taken  up  the 
hatchet  against  our  brethren  the  English.  We  desire  you 
to  hold  fast  the  chain,  and  shut  your  ears  against  their 
words." 

In  spite  of  the  friendly  disposition  to  which  the  Iroquois 
had  been  brought,  the  province  of  New  York  suffered  not" 
a  little  from  the  attacks  of  the  hostile  tribes  who  ravaged 
the  l)orders  of  Ulster,  Orange,  and  Albany  counties,  and 
threatened  to  destroy  the  upper  settlements  of  the  Mo- 
hawk. Sir  William  Johnson  was  the  object  of  their  es- 
pecial enmity,  and  he  several  times  received  intimations 
that  he  was  abouit  to  be  attacked.    He  armed  his  tenant- 


^9 


^ 

J 

n 

1 

^^Br 

^4M 

1 

'^^1 

I.]! 

'■  ^  i 


310 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ry,  surrounded  his  seat  of  Johnson  Hall  with  a  stockade, 
and  garrisoned  it  with  a  party  of  soldiers,  which  Sir  Jef- 
frey Amherst  had  ordered  thither  for  his  protection. 
About  this  time,  a  singular  incident  occurred  near  the 
town  of  Goshen.  Four  or  live  men  went  out  among  tlie 
hills  to  shoot  partridges,  and,  chancing  to  raise  a  large 
covey,  they  all  fired  their  guns  at  nearly  the  same  moment. 
Th(>  timorous  inhabitants,  hearing  the  reports,  concluded 
that  they  came  from  an  Indian  war-party,  and  instantly 
fled  in  extreme  dismay,  spreading  the  alarm  as  they  went 
The  neighboring  country  was  soon  in  a  panic.  The 
farmers  cut  the  harness  of  their  horses,  and,  leaving  their 
carts  and  ploughs  behind,  galloped  for  their  lives.  Others, 
snatching  up  their  children  and  their  most  valuable  prop- 
erty, made  with  all  speed  for  New  England,  not  daring  to 
pause  until  ithey  had  crossed  the  Hudson.  For  several 
days  the  neighborhood  was  abandoned,  five  hundred 
families  having  left  their  habitations  and  fled.  Not  long 
after  this  absurd  affair,  an  event  occurred  of  a  widely 
different  character. 

Allusion  has  before  been  made  to  the  carrying-place  of 
Niagara,  which  formed  an  essential  link  in  the  chain  of 
communication  between  the  province  of  New  York  and 
the  interior  country.  Men  and  military  stores  were  con- 
veyed in  boats  up  the  River  Niagara,  as  far  as  the  present 
site  of  Lewiston.  Thence  a  portage  road,  several  miles 
in  length,  passed  along  the  banks  of  the  stream,  and  ter- 
minated at  Fort  Schlosser,  above  the  cataract.  This  road 
traversed  a  region  whose  sublime  features  have  gained 
for  it  a  world-wide  renown.  The  River  Niagara,  a  short 
distance  below  the  cataract,  assumes  an  aspect  scarcely 
less  remarkable  than  that  stupendous  scene  itself.  Its 
channel  is  formed  by  a  vast  ravine,  whose  sides,  now  bare 
and  weather-stained,  now  shaggy  with  forest-trees,  rise 
in  cliffs  of  appalling  height  and  steepness.  Along  this 
chasm  pour  all  the  waters  of  the  lakes,  heaving  their 
furious  surges  with  the  power  of  an  ocean  and  the  rage 
of  a  mountain  torrent.    About  three  miles  below  the  cata- 


AMBUSCADE  AT  THE  DEVIL'S  HOLE.  311 

met,  the  precipices  which  form  the  eastern  wall  of  the 
ravine  are  broken  by  an  abyss  of  awful  depth  and  black- 
ness, bearing  at  the  present  day  the  name  of  the  Devil's 
Hole.  In  its  shallowest  part,  the  precipice  sinks  sheer 
down  to  the  depth  of  eighty  feet,  where  it  meets  a  chaotic 
mass  of  rocks,  descending  with  an  abrupt  declivity  to  un- 
seen depths  below.  Within  the  cold  and  damp  recesses 
of  the  gulf,  a  host  of  forest-trees  have  rooted  themselves  ; 
and,  standing  on  the  perilous  brink,  one  may  look  down 
upon  the  mingled  foliage  of  ash,  poplar,  and  maple,  while, 
above  them  all,  the  spruce  and  fir  shoot  their  sharp  and 
rigid  spires  upward  into  sunlight.  The  roar  of  the  con- 
vulsed river  swells  heavily  on  the  ear,  and,  far  below,  its 
headlong  waters  may  be  discerned  careering  in  foam  past 
the  openings  of  the  matted  foliage. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  September,  a  numerous  train  of 
wagons  and  pack  horses  proceeded  from  the  lower  land- 
ing to  Fort  Schlosser,  and  on  the  follovvlng  morning  set 
out  on  their  return,  guarded  by  an  escort  of  twenty-four 
soldiers.  They  pursued  their  slow  progress  until  they 
readied  a  point  where  the  road  passed  along  the  brink  of 
the  Devil's  Hole.  The  gulf  yawned  on  their  left,  while 
on  their  right  the  road  was  skirted  by  low  and  densely 
wooded  hills.  Suddenly  they  were  greeted  by  the  blaze 
and  clatter  of  a  hundred  rifles.  Then  followed  the  startled 
cries  of  men,  and  the  bounding  of  maddened  horses.  At 
the  next  instant,  a  host  of  Indians  broke  screeching  from 
the  woods,  and  rifle  butt  and  tomahawk  finished  the  bloody 
work.  All  was  o\er  in  a  moment.  Horses  leaped  the 
precipice;  men  were  driven  shrieking  into  the  abyss; 
teams  and  wagons  went  over,  crashing  to  atoms  among 
the  rocks  below.  Tradition  relates  that  the  drummer  boy 
of  the  detachment  was  caught,  in  his  fall,  among  the 
branches  of  a  tree,  where  he  hung  suspended  by  his  drum- 
strap.  Being  but  slightly  injured,  he  disengaged  himself, 
and,  hiding  in  the  recesses  of  the  gulf,  finally  escaped. 
One  of  the  teamsters  also,  who  was  wounded  at  the  first 
fire,  contrived  to  crawl  into  the  woods,  where  he  lay  con- 


"III 


I  if 

I  'hit 


312 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


cealed  till  the  Indians  had  left  the  place.  Besides  these 
two,  the  only  survivor  was  Stedman,  the  conductor  of  the 
convoy,  who,  being  well  mounted,  and  seeing  the  whole 
party  forced  helplessly  towards  the  precipice,  wheeled 
his  horse,  and  resolutely  spurred  through  the  crowd  of 
Indians.  One  of  them,  it  is  said,  seized  his  bridle ;  but 
he  freed  himself  by  a  dexterous  use  of  his  knife,  and 
plunged  into  the  woods,  untouched  by  the  bullets  wliicli 
whistled  about  his  head.  Flying  at  full  speed  through 
the  forest,  he  reached  Fort  Schlosser  in  safety. 

The  distant  sound  of  the  Indian  rifles  had  been  heard 
by  a  party  of  soldiers,  who  occupied  a  small  fortified  camp 
near  the  lower  landing.  Forming  in  haste,  they  advanced 
eagerly  to  the  rescue.  In  anticipation  of  this  movement, 
tilt  Indians,  who  were  nearly  ^ive  hundred  in  number, 
had  separated  into  two  parties,  one  of  which  had  stationed 
itself  at  the  Devil's  Hole,  to  waylay  the  convoy,  while  the 
other  formed  an  ambuscade  upon  the  road  a  mile  nearer 
the  landing-place.  The  soldiers,  marching  precipitately, 
and  huddled  in  a  close  body,  were  suddenly  assailed  by  a 
volley  of  rifles,  which  stretched  half  their  number  dead 
upon  the  road.  Then,  rushing  from  the  forest,  the  In- 
dians cut  down  the  survivors  with  merciless  ferocity.  A 
small  remnant  only  escaped  the  massacre,  and  fled  to 
Fort  Niagara  with  the  tidings.  Major  Wilkins,  who  com- 
manded at  this  post,  lost  no  time  in  marching  to  the  spot, 
with  nearly  the  whole  strength  of  his  garrison.  Not  an 
Indian  was  to  be  found.  At  the  two  places  of  ambuscade, 
about  seventy  dead  bodies  were  counted,  naked,  scalpless, 
and  so  horribly  mangled  that  many  of  them  could  not  be 
recognized.  All  the  wagons  had  been  broken  to  pieces, 
and  such  of  the  horses  as  were  not  driven  over  the  prec- 
ipice had  been  carried  off,  laden,  doubtless,  with  the 
plunder.  The  ambuscade  of  the  Devil's  Hole  has  gained 
a  traditionary  immortality,  adding,  fearful  interest  to  a 
scene  whose  native  horrors  need  no  aid  from  the  imagina- 
tion.* 

^MS.  Letter— Amherst  to  Egremont,  October  13,    Two  finony- 


DISASTER  OF  LAKE  ERIE. 


313 


The  Seneca  warriors,  aided  probably  by  some  of  the 
western  Indians,  were  the  authors  of  this  unexpected  at- 
tack. Their  hostiUty  did  not  end  here.  Several  weeks 
afterwards.  Major  Wilkins,  with  a  force  of  six  hundred 
regulars,  collected  with  great  effort  throughout  the 
provinces,  was  advancing  to  the  relief  of  Detroit.    As  the 


nious  letters  from  officers  at  Fort  Niagara,  September  16  and  17. 
Life  of  Mary  Jemison.    Appendix,  MS.  Johnson  Papers. 

One  of  the  actors  in  the  ti-agedy,  a  Seneca  warrior,  named 
Blacksnake,  was  living  a  few  years  since  at  a  very  advanced  age. 
He  described  the  scene  with  great  animation  to  a  friend  of  tlie 
writer,  and  as  he  related  liow  the  English  were  forced  over  the 
precipice,  his  small  eyes  glittered  like  those  of  the  serpent  whose 
name  he  boi*e. 

Extract  from  a  Letter — Niagara,  September  16,  (Penn.  Gaz. 
No.  1815.) 

'*  On  the  first  hea-  ing  of  the  Firing  by  the  Convoy,  Capt.  John- 
ston, and  three  Subalterns,  marched  with  about  80  Men,  mostly 
of  Gage's  Light  Infantry,  who  were  in  a  little  Camp  adjacent ; 
they  had  scarce  Time  to  form  wlien  the  Indians  appearr  t  at  the 
above  Pass ;  our  People  fired  briskly  upon  them,  but  was  instantly 
surrounded,  and  the  Captain  who  commanded  mortally  wounded 
the  first  Fire  ;  the  3  Subalterns  also  were  soon  after  killed,  on 
which  a  general  Confusion  ensued  :  The  Indians  rushed  in  on  all 
Sides,  and  cut  about  60  or  70  Men  in  Pieces,  iucluding  the  Con- 
voy :  Ten  of  our  Men  are  all  we  can  yet  learn  have  made  their 
Escape  ;  they  came  here  through  the  Woods  Yesterday.  From 
many  Circumstances,  it  is  believed  the  Senecas  have  a  chief 
Hand  in  this  Affair. " 

Extract  from  a  Letter — Niagara,  September  17,  (Penn.  Gaz. 
No.  1815.) 

"  Wednesday  the  14th  Inst,  a  large  Body  of  Indians,  some  say 
800,  other's  4  or  500,  came  down  upon  the  Carrying-Place,  attacked 
tliPi  TVaggon  Escort,  which  cons'sted  of  a  Serjeant  and  24  Men. 
Tills  small  Body  immediately  became  a  Sacrifice,  only  two  Wag- 
goners escaped.  Two  Companies  of  Light  Infantry  (the  General's 
and  La  Hunt's)  that  were  encamped  at  the  Lower  Landing,  hear- 
ing the  Fire,  instantly  rushed  out  to  their  Relief,  headed  by 
Licuts.  George  Campbell,  and  Frazier,  Lieutenant  Rosco,  of  the 
Artillery,  and  Lieutenant  Deaton,  of  the  Provincials  ;  this  Party 
had  not  marched  above  a  Mile  and  a  Half  when  they  were  at- 
tacked, surrounded,  and  almost  every  Man  cut  to  Pieces;  the 
Officers  were  all  killed,  it  is  reported,  on  the  Enemy's  first  Fire  ; 
the  Savages  rushed  down  upon  them  in  three  Columns." 


t^H> IP-  ■■ '.  --f  ■nr  ii 


I 


314 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


boats  were  slowly  forcing  their  way  upwards  against  the 
swift  current  above  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  they  were  as- 
sailed by  a  mere  handful  of  Indians,  thrown  into  con- 
fusion,  and  driven  back  to  Fort  Schlosser  with  serious 
loss.  The  next  attempt  was  more  fortunate,  the  boats 
reaching  Lake  Erie  without  farther  attack  ;  but  the  inaus- 
picious opening  of  the  expedition  was  followed  by  results 
yet  more  disastrous.  As  they  approached  their  destina- 
tion, a  violent  storm  overtook  them  in  the  night.  Tlie 
frail  bateaux,  tossing  upon  the  merciless  waves  of  Lake 
Erie,  were  overset,  driven  ashore,  and  many  of  them  dashed 
to  pieces.  About  seventy  men  perished,  all  the  ammu- 
nition and  stores  were  destroyed,  and  the  shattered  flotilla 
was  forced  back  to  Niagara. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


DESOLATION    OF    THE    FRONTIERS. 


The  advancing  frontiers  of  American  civilization  have 
always  nurtured  a  class  of  men  of  striking  and  peculiar 
character.  The  best  examples  of  this  character  have, 
perhaps,  been  found  among  the  settlers  of  Western  Vir- 
ginia, and  the  hardy  progeny  who  have  sprung  from  that 
generous  stock.  The  Virginian  frontiersman  was,  as  oc- 
casion called,  a  farmer,  a  hunter,  and  a  warrior,  by  turns. 
The  well-beloved  rifle  was  seldom  out  of  his  hand,  and 
he  never  deigned  to  lay  aside  the  fringed  frock,  mocca- 
sons,  and  Indian  leggins,  which  formed  the  appropriate 
costume  of  the  forest  ranger.  Concerning  the  business, 
pleasures,  and  refinements  of  cultivated  life,  he  knew 
little,  and  cared  nothing ;  and  his  manners  were  usually 
rough  and  obtrusive  to  the  last  degree.  Aloof  from 
mankind,  he  lived  in  a  world  of  his  own,  which,  in  his 
view,  contained  all  that  was  deserving  of  admiration  and 
praise.  He  looked  upon  himself  and  his  compeers  as 
models  of  proAvess  and  manhood,  nay,  of  all  that  is  elegant 
and  polite  ;  and  the  forest  gallant  regarded  with  peculiar 
complacency  his  own  half- savage  dress,  his  swaggering 
gait,  and  his  backwoods  jargon.  He  was  wilful,  head- 
strong, and  quarrelsome ;  frank,  straightforward,  and 
generous  ;  brave  as  the  bravest,  and  utterly  intolerant  of 
arbitrary  control.  His  self-confidence  mounted  to  auda- 
city. Eminently  capable  of  heroism,  both  in  action  and 
endurance,  he  viewed  every  species  of  effeminacy  v/ith 
supreme  contempt ;  and,  accustomed  as  he  was  to  entire 
self-reliance,  the  mutual  dependence  of  conventional  life 

315 


I 


316 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


rr  I 


excited  his  especial  scorn.  With  all  his  ignorance,  he  had 
a  mind  by  nature  quick,  vigorous,  and  penetrating ;  and 
his  mode  of  life,  while  it  developed  the  daring  energy  of 
his  character,  wrought  some  of  his  faculties  to  a  high 
degree  of  ocuteness.  Many  of  his  traits  have  been  re- 
produced in  his  offspring.  From  him  have  sprung  those 
hardy  men  whose  stT-uggies  and  sufferings  on  the  bloody 
ground  of  Kentuck-  w'll  always  form  a  striking  page  in 
American  history,  and  that  band  of  adventurers  before 
whose  headlong  charge,  in  the  valley  of  Chihuahua, 
neither  breastworks,  nor  batteries,  nor  fivefold  odds  could 
avail  for  a  moment. 

At  the  period  of  Pontiac's  war,  the  settlements  of 
Virginia  had  extended  as  far  as  the  Alleghanies,  and 
several  small  towns  had  already  sprung  up  beyond  the 
Blue  Ridge.  The  population  of  these  beautiful  valleys 
was,  for  the  most  part,  thin  and  scattered,  and  the  prog- 
ress of  settlement  had  been  greatly  retarded  by  Indian 
hostilities,  which,  during  the  early  years  of  the  French 
war,  had  thrown  these  borders  into  total  confusion.  They 
had  contributed,  however,  to  enhance  the  martial  temper 
of  the  people,  and  give  a  warlike  aspect  to  the  whole 
frontier.  At  intervals,  small  stockade  forts,  containing 
houses  and  cabins,  had  been  erected  by  the  joint  labor  of 
the  inhabitants  ;  and  hither,  on  occasion  of  alarm,  the 
settlers  of  the  neighborhood  congregated  for  refuge,  re- 
maining in  tolerable  security  till  the  danger  was  past. 
Many  of  the  inhabitants  were  engaged  for  a  great  part  of 
the  year  in  hunting,  an  occupation  upon  which  they 
entered  with  the  keenest  relish.* 


Well  versed  in  wood- 


*  "  I  have  often  seen  them  get  up  early  in  the  morning  at  this 
season,  walk  hastily  out,  and  look  anxiously  to  the  woods,  and 
snuff  the  autumnal  winds  with  the  highest  rapture,  then  return 
into  the  house,  and  cast  a  quick  and  attentive  look  at  the  rifle, 
which  was  always  suspended  to  a  joist  by  a  couple  of  buck's  horns, 
or  little  forks.  His  hunting  dog,  understanding  the  intentions 
of  his  master,  would  wag  his  tail,  and,  by  every  blandishment 
in  his  power,  express  his  readiness  to  accompany  him  to  the 
woods."— Doddridge,  Notes  on  Western  Va.  and  Pa.  134. 


CONSTERNATION  OF  THE  SETTLERS. 


317 


craft,  unsurpassed  as  marksmen,  and  practised  in  all  the 
wiles  of  Indian  war,  they  would  have  formed,  under  a 
more  stringent  organization,  the  best  possible  defence 
against  a  savage  enemy  ;  but  each  man  came  and  went  at 
his  own  sovereign  will,  and  discipline  and  obedience  were 
repugnant  to  all  his  habits. 

The  frontfors  of  Maryland  and  Virginia  closely  re- 
sembled each  other,  but  those  of  Pennsylvania  had  some 
peculiarities  of  their  own.  The  population  of  this  province 
was  of  a  most  motley  complexion,  being  made  up  of  mem- 
bers of  various  nations,  and  numerous  religious  sects,  Eng- 
lish, Irish,  German,  Swiss,  Welsh,  and  Dutch ;  Quakers, 
Presbyterians,  Lutherans,  Dunkers,  Mennonists,  and 
Moravians.  Nor  is  this  catalogue  by  any  means  complete. 
The  Quakers,  to  whose  peaceful  temper  the  ro\igh  fron- 
tier offered  no  attraction,  were  confined  to  the  eastern 
parts  of  the  province.  Cumberland  county,  which  lies 
west  of  the  Susquehanna,  and  may  be  said  to  have  formed 
the  frontier,  was  then  almost  exclusively  occupied  by 
the  Irish  and  their  descendants,  who,  however,  were 
neither  of  the  Roman  faith,  nor  of  Hibernian  origin,  being 
emigrants  from  the  colony  of  Scotch  which  forms  a 
numerous  and  thrifty  population  in  the  north  of  Ireland. 
In  religious  faith,  they  were  stanch  and  zealous  Presby- 
terians. Long  residence  in  the  province  had  modified 
their  national  character,  and  imparted  many  of  the  pecul- 
iar traits  of  the  American  backwoodsman ;  yet  the  .lature 
of  their  religious  tenets  produced  a  certain  rigidity  of 
tenper  and  demeanor,  from  which  the  Virginian  was 
wholly  free.  They  were,  nevertheless,  hot-headed  and 
turbulent,  often  setting  law  and  authority  at  defiance. 
The  counties  east  of  the  Susquehanna  supported  a  mixed 
population,  among  which  was  conspicuous  a  swarm  of 
German  peasants,  who  had  been  inundating  the  country 
for  many  yea ^is  past,  and  who  for  the  most  part  were  dull 

anrl  iDTinrnnt,  hnnra  •   a  pV»£iT'{ir>ff»r   nof   -wVinllv    inQr»-nlinQV»1p 

to  the  great  body  of  their  descendants.  The  Swiss  and 
German  sectaries  called  Mennonists,  who  were  numerous 


I  t 


f.  i'l 


318 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


in  Lancaster  county,  professed,  like  the  Quakers,  prin- 
ciples of  non-resistance,  and  refused  to  bear  arms. 

It  was  upon  this  mingled  population  that  the  storm  of 
Indian  war  was  now  descending  with  appalling  fury— a 
fury  unparalleled  through  all  past  and  succeeding  years. 
For  hundreds  of  miles  from  north  to  south,  the  country 
was  wasted  with  fire  and  steel.  It  would  be  a  task  alike 
useless  and  revolting  to  explore,  through  all  its  details, 
this  horrible  monotony  of  blood  and  havoc*  The  coun- 
try was  filled  with  the  wildest  dismay.  The  people  of 
Virginia  betook  themselves  to  their  forts  for  refuge,  iiut 
those  of  Pennsylvania,  ill  supplied  with  such  asylums, 
fled  by  thousands,  and  crowded  in  upon  the  older  settle- 
ments. The  ranging  parties  who  visited  the  scene  of  de- 
vastation beheld,  among  the  ruined  farms  and  plantations, 
sights  of  unspeakable  horror,  and  discovered,  in  the  deptlis 
of  the  forest,   the    half-consumed    bodies  of    men  and 


*  "  There  are  many  Letters  in  Town,  in  wliich  the  Distresses 
of  the  Frontier  Inliabitants  are  set  forth  in  a  most  moving  and 
striking  Manner  ;  but  as  these  Letters  are  pretty  much  the  same, 
and  it  would  be  endless  to  insert  the  whole,  the  following  is  the 
Substance  of  some  of  them,  as  near  as  we  can  recollect,  viz.  :— 

"  That  the  Indians  had  set  Fire  to"  Houses,  Barns,  Corn,  Hay, 
and,  in  short,  to  every  Thing  that  was  combustible,  so  that  the 
whole  Country  seemed  to  be  in  one  general  Blaze— That  the  Mis- 
eries and  Distresses  of  the  poor  People  were  really  shocking  to 
Humanity,  and  beyond  the  Power  of  Language  to  describe- 
That  Carlisle  was  become  the  Barrier,  not  a  single  Individual  be- 
ing beyond  it— That  every  Stable  and  Hovel  in  the  Town  w<as 
crowded  with  miserable  Refugees,  who  were  reduced  to  a  State 
of  Beggary  and  Despair  ;  their  Houses,  Cattle  and  Harvest  de- 
stroyed ;  and  from  a  plentiful,  independent  People,  they  were 
become  real  Objects  of  Charity  and  Commiseration— That  it 
was  most  dismal  to  see  the  Streets  filled  with  Peop'e,  in  whose 
Countenances  might  be  discovered  a  Mixture  of  Grief,  Madness 
and  Despair  ;  and  to  hear,  now  and  then,  the  Sighs  and  Groans 
of  Men,  the  disconsolate  Lamentations  of  Women,  ari  the 
Screams  of  Children,  who  had  lost  their  nearest  and  dearest  Rela- 
tives :  And  that  on  both  Sides  of  the  Susquehannah,  for  some 
Miles,  the  Woods  were  filled  with  poor  Families,  and  their  Cattle, 
who  make  Fires,  and  live  like  the  Savages."— Penn.  Gaz.  No.  1805. 


ATTACK  ON  GREENBRIER. 


819 


women,  still  bound  fast  to  the  trees,  where  they  had  per- 
ished ii.  the  fiery  torture. 

Among  the  numerous  war-parties  which  were  now  rav- 
aging the  borders,  none  was  more  destructive  than  a 
band,  about  sixty  in  number,  which  ascended  the  Ken- 
awha,  and  pursued  its  desolating  course  among  the  set- 
tlements about  the  sources  of  that  river.  They  passed 
\alley  after  valley,  sometimes  attacking  the  inhabitants 
by  surprise,  and  sometimes  murdering  them  under  the 
mask  of  friendship,  until  they  came  to  the  little  settle- 
ment of  Greenbrier,  where  nearly  a  hundred  of  the  peo- 
ple were  assembled  at  the  fortified  house  of  Archibald 
(ilendenning.  Seeing  two  or  three  Indians  approach, 
whom  they  recognized  as  former  acquaintances,  they 
suffered  them  to  enter  without  distrust ;  but  the  new- 
comers were  soon  joined  by  others,  until  the  entire  party 
were  gathered  in  and  around  the  buildings.  Some  sus- 
picion was  now  awakened,  and,  in  order  to  propitiate  the 
dangerous  guests,  they  were  presented  with  the  carcass 
of  an  elk  lately  brought  in  by  the  hunters.  They  imme- 
diately cut  it  up,  and  began  to  feast  upon  it.  The  back- 
woodsmen, with  their  families,  were  assembled  in  one 
large  room ;  and  finding  themselves  mingled  among  the 
Indians,  and  embarrassed  by  the  presence  of  the  women 
and  children,  they  remained  indecisive  and  irresolute. 
Meanwhile,  an  old  woman,  who  sat  in  a  corner  of  the 
room,  and  who  had  lately  received  some  slight  accidental 
injury,  asked  one  of  the  warriors  if  he  could  cure  the 
wound.  lie  replied  that  he  thought  he  could,  and,  to 
make  good  his  words,  killed  her  -with  his  tomahawk. 
This  was  the  signal  for  a  scene  of  general  butchery.  A 
few  persons  made  their  escape ;  the  rest  were  killed  or 
captured.  Glendenning  snatched  up  one  of  his  children, 
and  rushed  from  the  house,  but  was  shot  dead  as  he  leai)ed 
the  fence.  A  negro  woman  gained  a  place  of  conceal- 
ment, whither  she  was  followed  by  her  screaming  child  ; 
and,  fearing  lest  the  cries  of  the  boy  should  betray  her, 
she  turned  and  killed  him  at  a  blow.    Among  the  prison- 


'  »Mi!l 


f  Vf 


320 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ers  wjiH  the  wifcj  of  (Jlendenning,  a  woman  of  a  mast 
masculine  spirit,  wlio,  far  from  being   overpowered  by 
what  she  bad  seen,  was  excited  to  the  extremity  of  rjige 
charged   her  cai)tors  with   treachery,  cowardice,  and  in- 
gratitude, and  assailed  them  with  a  tempest  of  abuse.    Nei- 
ther the  tomahawk,  which  they  blandished  ever  her  head 
nor  the  scalp  of  her  murdered  husband,  with  which  they 
struck  her  in  the  face,  could  silence  the  undaunted  virago 
Wlien  tiie  party  began  their  retreat,  bearing  with  theni  a 
great  (luantity  of  plunder,  packed  on  the  horses  they  had 
stolen,  Glendenning's  wife,    with  her  infant  child,  was 
placed   among  a  long  train  of  captives,  guarded   before 
and  behind  by  the  Indians.     As  they  defiled  along  a  narrow 
path  which  led  through  a  gap  in  the  mountains,  she  handed 
the  clnld  to  the  woman  behind  her,  and,  leaving  it  to  its 
fate,*  slipped  into  tlie  bushes  and  escaped.     Being  well 
acquainted  with  the  woods,  she  succeeded,  before  night- 
fall, 111  reaching  the  spot  where  the  ruins  of  her  dwelling 
had  not  yet  ceased  to  burn.     Here  she  sought  out  the 
body  of  her  husband,  and  covered  it  with  fence  rails,  to 
protect  It  from  the   wolves.     When  her  task  was  com- 
plete, and  when  night  closed  around  her,  the  bold  spirit 
which  had  hitherto  borne  her  up  suddenly  gave   way 
The  recollection  of  the  horrors  she  had  witnessed,  the  pres- 
ence of  the  dead,  the  darkness,  the  solitude,  and  the  gloom 
of  the  surrounding  forest,  wrought  upon  her  till  her  ter- 
ror rose  to  ecstasy,   and  she  remained  until   daybreak 
crouched  among  the  bushes,  h^aunted  by  the  threatening 
apparition  of  an  armed  man,  who,  to  her  heated  imagina- 
tion, seemed  constantly  approaching  to  murder  her.  ^ 

Some  time  after  the  butchery  at  Glendenning's  house, 
an  outrage  was  perpetrated,  unmatched,  in  its  fiend-like 

*Her  absence  was  soon  perceived,  on  which  one  of  the  In- 
dians remarked  tliat  he  would  bring  the  cow  back  to  her  calf 
and,  seizing  the  child,  forced  it  to  scream  violently.  This  prov- 
mg  ineffectual,  lie  dashed  out  its  brains  against  a  tree.  This  was 
related  hy  one  of  the  captives  wlio  was  taken  to  the  Indian  vil- 
lages and  afterwards  redeemed. 


ATTACK  ON  A  SCHOOL-HOUSE. 


321 


atrocity,  through  all  the  annals  of  the  war.  In  a  solitary 
place,  deep  within  the  settled  limits  of  Pennsylvania, 
stood  a  small  school-house,  one  of  those  rude  structures 
of  logs  which,  to  this  day,  may  be  seen  in  some  of  the 
remote  northern  districts-  of  New  England.  A  man  chan- 
cing to  pass  by  was  struck  by  the  unwonted  siUuici^  and, 
pushing  open  the  door,  he  looked  within.  In  the  (HMitre 
|lay  the  master,  s(!alped  and  lif(»less,  with  a  Bible  clasped 
in  his  hand,  while  around  the  room  were  strewn  the 
bodies  of  his  pupils,  nine  in  number,  miserably  manghid, 
though  one  of  them  still  retained  a  spark  of  life.  It  was 
afterwards  known  that  the  deed  was  committed  by  three 
or  four  warriors  from  a  village  near  the  Ohio ;  and  it  is 
but  just  to  observe  that,  wh^n  they  returned  home,  their 
conduct  was  disapproved  by  some  of  the  tribe.* 

Page  after  page  might  be  filled  with  records  like  these, 
for  the  letters  and  journals  of  the  day  are  replete  with 
narratives  no  less  tragical.  Districts  were  depopulated, 
and  the  progress  of  the  country  put  ba- li  for  years. 
Those  small  and  scattered  settlements  which  formed  the 
feeble  van  of  advancing  civilization  were  involved  in 
general  destruction,  and  the  fate  of  one  may  stand  ^or 
the  fate  of  all.  In  many  a  woody  valley  of  the  Alle- 
glianies,  the  axe  and  fireorand  of  the  settlers  had  laid  a 
wide  space  open  to  the  sun.  Here  and  there,  about  the 
clearing,  ytood  rough  dwellings  of  logs,  surrounded  by 

*  Gordon,  Hist.  Penn.  Appendix.  Bard,  Narrative. 

*'  Several  small  parties  went  on  to  diffei'ent  parts  of  the  settle- 
ments :  it  happened  that  tliree  of  them,  whom  I  was  well  ac- 
quainted with,  came  from  the  neighbourhood  of  where  I  was 
taken  from — they  were  young  fellows,  perhaps  none  of  them 
more  than  twenty  years  of  age, — they  came  to  a  school-house, 
where  they  murdered  and  scalped  the  master,  and  all  the  scholars, 
except  one,  who  survived  after  he  was  scalped,  a  boy  about  ten 
years  old,  and  a  full  cousin  of  mine.  I  saw  the  Indians  when 
they  returned  home  witli  the  scalps ;  some  of  the  old  'Indians 
were  veiy  much  displeased  at  them  for  killings© many  children, 
especially  Neep  pmigJi-irJiese,  or  Night  Walker,  an  old  cliief,  or 
half  king. — he  ascribed  it  to  cowardice,  which  was  the  greatest 
affront  he  could  offer  them." — M'CuUough,  Narrative. 
21 


322 


THE    CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


enelosurcs  and  cornfields,  while,  ffirther  out  towards  the 
verge  of  the  woods,  the  falUiii  trees  still  cunihered  the 
ground.  From  the  clay-built  chimneys  the  smoke  rose 
in  steady  columns  against  the  dark  verge  of  the  forest ; 
and  the  afternoon  sun,  which  brightened  the  tops  of  tlie 
mountains,  had  already  left  the  valley  in  shadow.  Before 
many  hours  elapsed,  the  night  was  lighted  up  with  the 
glare  of  blazing  dwellings,  and  the  forest  rang  with  the 
shrieks  of  the  murdered  inmates.* 

Among  the  records  of  that  day's  sufferings  and  dis- 
asters,  none  are  more  striking  than  the  narratives  of 
those  whose  lives  were  spared  that  they  might  be  borne 

*  Extract  from  a  MS,  Letter— Thomas  Cresap  to  Governor 
Sharpe. 

"  Old  Town,  July  15th,  1763. 
'•  May  it  please  jy^'  Excellency  : 

"  I  take  this  opportunity  in  the  height  of  confusion  to  acquaint 
you  with  our  unhappy  and  most  wretched^situation  at  this  time, 
being  in  hourly  expectation  of  being  massacred  by  our  barbarous 
and  inhuman  enemy  the  Indians,  we  having  been  three  days 
successively  attacked  by  them,  viz.  the  13th,  14th,  and  this  in- 
stant." 

"  I  have  enclosed  a  list  of  the  desoiate  men  and  women,  and 
children  who  have  fled  to  my  house,  which  is  enclosed  by  a  small 
stockade  for  snfety,  by  which  you  see  what  a  number  of  poor 
souls,  destitute  of  every  necessary  of  life,  are  here  penned  up, 
and  likely  to  be  butchered  without  immediate  relief  and  assist- 
ance, and  can  expect  none,  unless  from  the  province  to  which 
they  belong.  I  shall  submit  to  your  wiser  judgment  the  best 
and  most  effectual  method  for  sufeh  relief,  and  shall  conclude 
with  hoping  we  shall  have  it  in  time." 

Extract  from  a  Letter— Frederick  Town,  July  19,  1763  rPenn- 
Gaz.  No.  1807.)  '  v  , 

"  Every  Day,  for  some  Time  past,  has  offered  the  melancholy 
Scene  of  poor  distressed  Families  driving  downwards,  through 
this  Town,  with  their  Effects,  who  have  deserted  their  Planta- 
tions, for  Fear  of  falling  into  the  cruel  Hands  of  our  Savage 
Enemies,  now  daily  seen  in  the  Woods.  And  never  was  Panic 
more  general  or  forcible  than  that  of  the  Back  Inhabitants, 
whose  Terrors,  at  this  Time,  exceed  what  followed  on  the  Defeat 
of  General  Braddook,  when  the  Frontiers  lay  open  to  the  Incur- 
sions of  both  French  and  Indians." 


SUFFEIlTNas  OF  CAPTIVES. 


323 


captive  to  the  Indian  villages.  Exposed  to  the  extremity 
of  hardship,  they  were  urged  forward  with  the  assurance 
of  being  tomahawked  or  burnt  in  case  their  strength 
should  fail  them.  Some  made  their  escape  from  the 
clutches  of  their  tormentors  ;  but  of  these  not  a  few  found 
reason  to  repent  their  success,  lost  in  a  trackless  wilder- 
ness, and  perishing  miserably  from  hunger  and  exposure. 
Such  attempts  could  seldom  be  made  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  settlements.  It  was  only  when  the  party  had 
penetrated  deep  into  the  forest  that  their  vigilance  began 
to  relax,  and  their  captives  were  bound  and  guarded  with 
less  rigorout:  severity.  Then,  perhaps,  when  encamped 
by  the  side  ot  some  mountain  brook,  and  when  the  war- 
riors lay  lost  in  sleep  around  their  fire,  the  prisoner 
would  cut  or  burn  asunder  the  cords  that  bound  his 
wrists  and  ankles,  and  glide  stealthily  into  the  woods. 
With  noiseless  celerity,  he  pursues  his  flight  over  the 
fallen  trunks,  through  the  dense  undergrowth,  and  the 
thousand  pitfalls  and  impediments  of  the  forest;  now 
striking  the  rough,  hard  trunk  of  a  tree,  now  tripping 
among  the  insidious  network  of  vines  and  brambles.  All 
is  darkness  around  him,  and  through  the  black  masses  of 
foliage  above  he  can  catch  but  dubious  and  uncertain 
glimpses  of  the  dull  sky.  At  length,  he  can  hear  the 
gurgle  of  a  neighboring  brook,  and,  turning  towards  it, 
he  wades  along  its  pebbly  channel,  fearing  lest  the  soft 
mould  and  rotten  wood  of  the  forest  might  retain  traces 
enough  to  direct  the  bloodhound  instinct  of  his  pursuers. 
With  the  dawn  of  the  misty  and  cloudy  morning,  he  ^ ' 
still  pushing  on  his  way,  when  his  attention  is  caught  by 
the  spectral  figure  of  an  ancient  birch-tree,  which,  with 
its  white  bark  hanging  about  it  in  tatters,  seems  wofuUy 
familiar  to  his  eye.  Among  the  neighboring  bushes,  a 
blue  smoke  curls  faintly  upward,  and,  to  his  horror  and 
amazement),  he  recognizes  the  very  fire  from  which  he 
had  fled  a  few  hours  before,  and  the  piles  of  spruce  boughs 
upon  which  the  warriors  had  slept.  They  have  gone, 
however,  and  are  ranging  the  forest,  in  keen  pursuit  of 


324 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  fugitive,  who,  in  his  blind  flight  amid  the  darkness, 
hadcirded  round  to  the  very  point  whence  he  set  out; 
a  mistake  not  uncommon  with  careless  or  inexperienced 
travellers  in  the  woods.     Almost  in  despair,  he  leaves 
the  ill-omened  spot,  and  directs  his  course  eastward  with 
greater  care,  the  bark  of  the  trees,  rougher  and  thicker 
on  the  northern  side,  furnishing  a  precarious  clew  for  his 
guidance.     Around  and  above  him  nothing  can  be  seen 
but  the  same  endless  monotony  of  brown  trunks  and 
green  leaves,  closing  him  in  with  an  impervious  screen. 
He  reaches   the  foot  of  a  mountain,  and  toils  upward 
against  the  rugged  declivity;  but  when   he  stands  on 
the  summit,  the  view  is  still  shut  out  by  impenetrable 
thickets.     High  above  them  all  shoots  up  the  tall,  gaunt 
stem  of  a  blasted  pine-tree,  and,  in  his  eager  longing  for 
a   view   of  th^  surrounding  objects,   he  strains   every 
muscle  to  ascend.    Dark,  wild,  and  lonely,  the  wilderness 
stretches  around  him,  half  hidden  in  clouds,  half  open 
to  the  sight,  mountain  and  valley,  crag  and  glistening 
stream  ;  but  nowhere  can  he  discern  the  trace  of  human 
hand  or  any  hope  of  rest  and  harborage.     Before  he  can 
look  for  relief,  league  upon  league  must  be  passed,  with- 
out food  to  sustain  or  v/eapon  to  defend  him.     He  de- 
scends the  mountain,  forcing  his  way  through  the  under- 
growth of  laurel  bushes,  while  the  clouds  sink  lower, 
and  a  storm  of  sleet  and  rain  descends  upon  the  waste! 
Through   such    scenes,   and  under  such   exposures,  he 
presses  onward,  sustaining  life  with  the  aid  of  roots  and 
berries  or  the  flesh  of  reptiles.     Perhaps,  in  the  last  ex- 
tremity, some  party  of  rangers  find  him,  and  bring  him 
to  a  place  of  refuge ;  perhaps,  by  his  own  efforts,  he 
reaches   some  frontier  post,  where   rough  lodging  and 
rough  fare  seem  to  him  unheard-of  luxury  ;  or,  perhaps, 
spent,  with  fatigue  and  famine,  he  perishes  in  despair,  a 
meagre  banquet  for  the  wolves. 

Within  two  or  three  weeks  after  the  war  had  broken 
out,  tlie  older  to^^^ls  and  settiemei.,s  of  Peuiisylvania 
were  crowded  with  refugees  from  the  deserted  frontier, 


I 


I 


PROVINCIAL  GOVERNMENT  OF  PENNSYLVANIA.  325 

reduced,  in  many  cases,  to  the  extremity  of  destitution.* 
Sermons  were  preached  in  their  behalf  at  Phihidelphia ; 
the  religious  societies  united  for  their  relief,  and  liberal 
contributions  were  added  by  individuals.  While  private 
aid  was  thus  generously  bestowed  upon  the  sufferers,  the 
government  showed  no  such  promptness  in  arresting  the 
public  calamity.  Early  in  July,  Governor  Hamilton  had 
convoked  the  Assembly,  and,  representing  the  distress  of 
the  borders,  had  urged  them  to  take  measures  of  defence. 
But  the  provincial  government  of  Pennsylvania  was  more 
conducive  to  prosperity  in  time  of  peace  than  to  prompt 
efficiency  in  time  of  war.  Th«  Quakers,  who  held  a 
majority  in  the  Assembly,  were,  from  principle  and  prac- 
tice, the  reverse  of  warlike,  and,  regarding  the  Indians 
with  a  blind  partiality,  were  reluctant  to  take  measures 
against  them.  Proud,  and  with  some  reason,  of  the  jus- 
tice and  humanity  which  had  marked  their  conduct  to- 
wards the  Indian  race,  they  had  learned  to  regard  them- 
selves as  its  advocates  and  patrons,  and  their  zeal  was 
greatly  sharpened  b}-  opposition  and  political  prejudice. 
They  now  pretended  that  the  accounts  from  the  frontier 
were  gr^^tisly  exaggerated ;  and,  finding  this  ground  un- 
tenable, they  alleged,  with  better  show  of  reason,  that  the 
Indians  were  driven  into  hostility  by  the  ill  treatment  of 
the  proprietaries  and  their  partisans.     They  recognized, 

*  Extract  from  a  Letter— Winchester,  Virginia,  June  22d, 
(Penn.  Gaz.  No.  1801.) 

"  Last  Night  I  reached  this  ^lace.  I  have  been  at  Fort  Cum- 
berland several  Days,  but  the  I  idians  having  killed  nine  People, 
and  hurt  several  HoucdS  near  Fort  Bedford,  made  me  think  it 
prudent  to  remove  from  those  Parts,  from  which,  I  suppose,  near 
5(/0  Families  have  run  away  within  this  week. — I  assure  you  it 
was  a  most  melancholy  Sight,  to  see  such  Numbers  of  poor  People, 
who  had  abandoned  their  Settlements  in  such  Consternation  and 
Hurry,  tliat  they  had  hardly  anythmg  with  them  but  their  Chil- 
dren. And  what  is  still  worse,  I  dare  say  there  is  not  Money 
enough  i,mongst  the  whole  Families  to  maintain  a  fifth  Part  of 
thfim  till  th.p  Fa!!  :  and  none  of  the  poor  Creatures  can  get  a 
Hovel  to  shelter  them  from  the  Weather,  but  lie  about  scattered 
in  the  Woods." 


326 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


however,  the  necessity  of  defensive  measures,  and  accord- 
ingly passed  a  bill  for  raising  and  equipping  a  force  of 
seven  hundred  men,  to  be  composed  of  frontier  farmers, 
and  to  be  kept  in  pay  only  during  the  time  of  harvest. 
They  were  not  to  leave  the  settled  parts  of  the  province, 
to  engage  in  offensive  operations  of  any  kind,  nor  even 
to  perform  garrison  duty,  the  sole  object  being  to  enable 
the  people  to  gather  in  their  crops  unmolested. 

This  force  was  divided  into  numerous  small  detached 
parties,  who  were  stationed  here  and  there,  at  farm-houses 
and  hamlets  on  both  sides  of  the  Susquehanna,  with  orders 
to  range  the  woods  daily  from  post  to  post,  thus  forming 
a  feeble  chain  of  defence  across  the  whole  frontier.  The 
two  companies  assigned  to  Lancaster  county  were  placed 
under  the  command  of  a  clergyman,  Mr.  John  Elder,  pas- 
tor of  the  Presbyterian  church  of  Paxton,  a  man  of  worth 
and  education, 'and  held  in  great  respect  upon  the  borders. 
He  discharged  his  military  functions  with  address  and 
judgment,  drawing  a  cordon  of  troops  across  the  front  of 
the  country,  and  preserving  the  inhabitants  free  from  at- 
tack for  a  considerable  time.* 

The  feeble  measures  adopted  by  the  Pennsylvania 
Assembly  highly  excited  the  wrath  of  Sir  Jeffrey  Am- 
herst, and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  give  his  feelings  an 
emphatic  expression.     "  The  conduct  of  the  Pennsylvania 

*  Extract  from  a  MS.  letter— John  Elder  to  Governor  Penn. 

"  Paxton,  4th  August,  1763. 
"Sir: 

"  The  service  your  Honr  was  pleased  to  appoint  me  to,  I  have 
performed  to  the  best  of  m)'  power  ;  tho'  not  with  success  equal 
to  my  desires.  However,  both  companies  will,  I  imagine,  be 
complete  in  a  few  days  :  there  are  now  upwards  of  30  men  in 
each,  exclusive  of  officers,  who  are  now  and  have  been  employed 
since  their  enlistment  in  such  service  as  is  thought  most  safe  and 
encouraging  to  the  Frontier  inhabitants,  who  are  here  and  every 
where  else  in  the  back  countries  quite  sunk  and  dispirited,  so 
that  it's  to  be  feared  that  on  any  attack  of  the  enemy,  a  con- 
siderable part  of  the  country  will  be  evacuated,  as  all  seem  in- 
Giinaoie  to  seeK  sateuy  rather  in  ixigiit  tuan  in  opposing  the  osv- 
age  Foe." 


COURAGE  OF  THE  BORDERERS. 


327 


legislature,"  he  writes  "  is  altogether  so  infatuated  and 
and  stupidly  obstinate,  that  I  want  words  to  express  my 
indignation  thereat ;  but  the  colony  of  Virginia,  I  hope, 
will  have  the  honor  of  not  only  driving  the  enemy  from 
its  own  settlements,  but  that  of  protecting  those  of  its 
neighbors,  who  have  not  spirit  to  defend  themselves." 

Virginia  did,  in  truth,  exhibit  a  vigor  and  activity  not 
unworthy  of  praise.  Unlike  Pennsylvania,  she  had  the 
advantage  of  an  existing  militia  law,  and  the  House  of 
Burgesses  was  neither  embarrassed  by  scruples  against 
the  shedding  of  blood,  nor  by  any  peculiar  tenderness 
towards  the  Indian  race.  The  house,  however,  was  not 
immediately  summoned  together,  and  the  governor  and 
council,  without  awaiting  the  delay  of  such  a  measure, 
called  out  a  thousand  of  the  militia,  five  hundred  of  whom 
were  assigned  to  the  command  of  Colonel  Stephen,  and 
an  equal  number  to  that  of  Major  Lewis.  The  presence 
of  these  men,  most  of  whom  were  woodsmen  and  hunters, 
restored  order  and  confidence  to  the  distracted  borders, 
and  the  inhabitants,  before  pent  up  in  their  forts,  or  fly- 
ing before  the  enemy,  now  took  the  field,  in  conjunction 
with  the  militia.  Many  severe  actions  were  fought,  but 
it  seldom  happened  that  the  Indians  could  stand  their 
ground  against  the  border  riflemen.  The  latter  were 
uniformly  victorious  until  the  end  of  the  summer,  when 
Captains  Moffat  and  Phillips,  with  sixty  men,  were 
lured  into  an  ambuscade,  and  routed,  with  the  loss  of 
half  their  number.  A  few  weeks  after,  they  took  an 
ample  revenge.  Learning  by  their  scouts  that  more  than 
a  hundred  warriors  were  encamped  near  Jackson's  River, 
preparing  to  attack  the  settlements,  they  advanced 
secretly  to  the  spot,  and  set  upon  them  with  such  fury, 
that  the  whole  party  broke  away  and  fled,  leaving  weap- 
ons, provision,  articles  of  dress,  and  implements  of  magic, 
in  the  hands  of  the  victors. 

Meanwhile  the  frontier  people  of  Pennsylvania,  finding 
that  they  could  hope  for  little  aid  from  government,  be- 
stirred themselves  with  admirable  spirit  in  their  own  de- 


328 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


I! 


i 

i< 


fence.  The  march  of  Bouquet,  and  the  victory  of  Bushy 
Run,  caused  a  temporary  hill  in  the  storm,  thus  enabling 
some  of  the  bolder  inhabitants,  who  had  fled  to  Shippens- 
burg,  Carlisle,  and  other  places  of  refuge,  to  return  to 
their  farms,  where  they  determined,  if  possil>le,  to  remain. 
With  this  resolution,  the  people  of  the  Great  Cove,  and 
the  adjacent  valleys  beyond  Shippensburg,  raised  among 
themselves  a  small  body  of  riflemen,  wliich  they  placed 
under  the  command  of  James  Smith,  a  man  whose  resolute 
and  daring  character,  no  less  than  the  native  vigor  of  his 
int  iiect,  gave  him  great  popularity  and  influence  witli 
the  borderers.  Having  been,  for  several  years,  a  prisoner 
among  the  Indians,  he  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
tlieir  mode  of  fighting.  He  trained  his  men  in  the  In- 
dian tactics  and  discipline,  and  directed  them  to  assume 
the  dress  of  warriors,  and  paint  their  faces  red  and  black, 
so  that,  in  appearance,  they  were  hardly  distinguishable 
from  the  enemy.*  Thus  equipped,  they  scoured  the 
woods  in  front  of  the  settlements,  had  various  skirmishes 
with  the  enemy,  and  discharged  their  difficult  task  with 
such  success  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighborhood 
were  not  again  driven  from  their  homes. 

The  attacks  on  the  Pennsylvania  frontier  were  known 
to  proceed,  in  great  measure,  from  sevenil  Indian  villages, 
situated  high  up  the  west  branch  of  the  Susquehanna, 
and  inhabited  by  a  debauched  rabble  composed  of  various 
tribes,  of  whom  the  most  conspicuous  were  Delawares. 


*  Petition  of  the  Inhabitants  of  the  Great  Cove.  Smith,  Nar- 
rative. This  is  a  highly  interesting  account  of  tlie  writer's  cap- 
tivity among  the  Indians,  and  his  adventures  daring  several  suc- 
ceeding years.  In  the  war  of  the  revolution,  he  acted  the  part  of 
a  zealous  patriot.  He  lived  until  the  year  1813,  about  which 
time  the  western  Indians  having  broken  out  into  hostility,  lie 
gave  his  country  the  benefit  of  his  ample  experience,  by  pubhsh- 
ing  a  treatise  on  the  Indian  mode  of  warfare.  In  Kentucky, 
where  he  spent  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  he  was  much  respected, 
and  several  times  elected  to  the  legislature.  This  narrative  may 
be  found  in  Drake's  Tragedies  of  the  Wilderness,  and  in  several 
other  similar  collections. 


ARMSTRONG'S  EXPEDITION. 


329 


To  root  out  this  nest  of  banditti  would  be  the  most  ef- 
fectual means  of  protecting  the  settlements,  and  a  hundred 
and  ten  men  offered  themselves  for  the  enterprise.     They 
marched   about  the  end   of   August ;  but  on   their  way 
along  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna  they  encountered 
lifty  warriors,  advancing  against  the  borders      The  In- 
dians had  the  first  fire,  and  drove  in  the  vanguard  of  the 
white  men.     A  hot  fight  ensued.     The  warriors  fought 
naked,  painted  black  from  head  to  foot,  so  that,  as  they 
leaped  among  the  trees,  they  seemed  to  their  opponents 
like  demons  of  the  forest.     They  were  driven  back  with 
heavy   loss,   and   the   volunteers    returned   in   triumph, 
though  without  accomplishing  the  oljject  of  the  expedition, 
for  which,  indeed,  their  numbers  were  scarcely  adequate. 
Within  a  few  weeks  after  their  return.  Colonel  Arm- 
strong, a  veteran  partisan  of  the  French  war,  raised  three 
hundred  men,  the  best  in  Cumberland  county,  with  a 
view  to  the  effectual  destruction  of  the  Susquehanna  vil- 
lages.    Leaving  their  rendezvous  at  the  crossings  of  the 
Juniata,  about  the  first  of  October,  they  arrived  on  the 
sixth  at  the  Great  Island,  high  up  the  west  branch.     On 
or  near  this  island  were  situated  the  principal  villages  of 
the  enemy.     But  the  Indians  had  vanished,  abandoning 
their  houses,  their   cornfields,   their  stolen  horses   and 
cattle,   and  the   accunmlated   spoil   of   the   settlements. 
Leaving  a  detachment  to  burn  the  towns  and  lay  waste 
the  fields,  Armstrong,  with  the  main  body  of  his  men, 
followed  close  on  the  trail  of  the  fugitives,  and,  pursuing 
them  through  a  rugged  and  difficult  country,  soon  arrived 
at  another  village,  thirty  miles  above  the  former.     His 
scouts  informed  him  that  the  place  was  full  of  Indians, 
and  his  men,  forming  a  circle  around  it,  rushed  in  upon 
the  cabins  at  a  given  signal.     The  Indians   were   gone, 
having  stolen  away  in  such  haste  that  the  hominy  and 
bear's  meat,  prepared  for  their  meal,  were  found  smoking 
upon  their   dishes   of   birch  bark.     ITaviu"'   burned   the 
place  to  the  ground,  the  party  returned  to  the  Great  Isl- 
and, and,    rejoining    their  companions,  descended  the 


"'*! 


330 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Susquehanna  reaching  Fort  Augusta  in  a  wretched  con- 
dition, fatigued,  half  famislied,  and  quarrelling  among 
themselves. 

Scarcely  were  they  returned,  when  another  expedition 
was  set  on  foot,  in  which  a  portion  of  them  were  persuaded 
to  take  part.  During  the  previous  year,  a  body  of  set- 
tlers from  Connecticut  had  possessed  themselves  of  the 
valley  of  Wyoming,  on  the  east  branch  of  the  Susque- 
hanna, in  defiance  of  the  government  of  Pennsylvania,  and 
to  the  great  displeasure  of  the  Indians.  The  object  of  the 
expedition  was  to  remove  these  settlers,  and  destroy  their 
corn  and  provisions,  which  might  otherwise  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  The  party,  composed  chiefly  of 
volunteers  from  Lancaster  county,  set  out  from  Harris' 
Ferry,  under  the  command  of  Major  Clayton,  and  reached 
Wyoming  on  the  seventeenth  of  October.  They  were 
too  late.  Two  days  before  their  arrival,  a  massacre  had 
been  perpetrated,  the  fitting  precursor  of  that  subsequent 
scene  of  blood  wliich,  embalmed  in  the  poetic  romance  of 
Campbell,  has  made  the  name  of  Wyoming  a  household 
word.  The  settlement  was  a  pile  of  ashes  and  cinders, 
and  the  bodies  of  its  miserable  inhabitants  offered  fright- 
ful proof  of  the  cruelties  which,  with  diabolical  ingenuity 
had  been  inflicted  upon  them.*  A  large  war-party  had 
fallen  upon  the  place,  killed  and  carried  off  more  than 
twenty  of  the  people,  and  driven  the  rest,  men,  women, 
and  children,  in  terror  to  the  mountains.  Gaining  a  point 
which  commanded  the  whole 'expanse  of  the  valley  below, 
the  fugitives  looked  back,  and  saw  the  smoke  rolling  up  in 
volumes  from  their  burning  homes,  while  the  Indians  coiikl 
be  discerned  roaming  about  in  quest  of  plunder,  or  feasting 
in  groups  upon  the  slaughtered  cattle.  One  of  the  principal 
settlers,  a  man  named  Hopkins,  was  separated  from  the 


*  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter — P;txton,  October  23. 

"  The  woman  was  roasted,  and  had  two  hinges  in  her  hands, 
gyprjosed  to  be  ^^ut  in  red  hot*  and  several  of  tlie  men  had  awls 
thrust  into  their  eyes,  and  spears,  arrows,  pitchforks,  etc.,  stick- 
ing in  their  bodies." 


QUAKER  PREJUDICE. 


331 


[1,  women, 


rest,  and  driven  into  the  woods.  Finding  himself  closely 
pursued  he  crept  into  the  huge,  hollow  trunk  of  a  fallen 
tree,  while  the  Indians  passed  without  observing  him. 
They  soon  returned  to  the  spot,  and  ranged  the  surrounding 
woods  like  hounds  at  fault,  two  of  them  approaching  so 
near,  that,  as  Hopkins  declared,  he  could  hear  the  bullets 
rattle  in  their  pouches.  The  search  was  unavailing ;  but 
the  fugitive  did  not  venture  from  his  place  of  concealment 
until  extreme  hunger  forced  him  to  return  to  the  ruined 
settlement  in  search  of  food.  The  Indians  had  abandoned 
it  some  time  before,  and,  having  found  means  to  restore 
his  exhausted  strength,  he  directed  his  course  towards 
the  settlements  of  the  Delaware,  which  he  reached  after 
many  days  of  wandering. 

Having  buried  the  dead  bodies  of  those  who  had  fallen 
in  the  massacre,  Clayton  and  his  party  returned  to  the 
settlements.  The  Quakers,  who  seemed  resolved  that 
they  would  neither  defend  the  people  of  the  frontier  nor 
allow  them  to  defend  themselves,  vehemently  inveighed 
against  the  several  expeditions  up  the  Susquehanna,  and 
denounced  them  as  seditious  and  murderous.  Urged  by 
their  blind  prejudice  in  favor  of  the  Indians,  they  insisted 
that  the  bands  ot  the  Upper  Susquehanna  were  friendly 
to  the  English ;  whereas,  with  the  single  exception  of  a 
few  Moravian  converts  near  Wyoming,  who  had  not  been 
molested  by  the  whites,  there  could  be  no  rational  doubt 
that  these  savages  nourished  a  rancorous  and  malignant 
hatred  against  the  province.  But  the  Quakers,  removed 
by  their  situation  from  all  fear  of  the  tomahawk,  securely 
vented  their  spite  against  the  borderers,  and  doggedly 
closed  their  ears  to  the  truth.*    Meanwhile,   the  people 


m 


V  t 


[■t -I 


*  It  has  already  been  stated  that  the  Quakers  were  confined 
to  the  eastern  parts  of  the  province.  That  their  security  was 
owing  to  their  local  situation,  rath'er  than  to  the  kind  feeling  of 
the  Indians  towards  them,  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that,  of  the 
very  few  of  their  number  who  lived  in  exposed  positions^  several 
were  killed.  One  of  them  in  particular,  John  Fincher,  seeing  his 
house  about  to  be  attacked,  went  out  to  meet  the  warriors,  de- 


332 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


of  the  frontier  besieged  the  Assembly  with  petitions  for 
relief ;  but  little  heed  was  given  to  then*  complaints. 

Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  had  recently  resigned  his  office  of 
commander-in-chief,  and  General  Gage,  a  man  of  less 
efficiency  than  his  vigorous  and  able  predecessor,  was 
appointed  to  succeed  hiin.  Immediately  before  his  de- 
parture  for  England,  Amherst  had  made  a  requisition 
upon  the  several  provinces  for  troops  to  march  against 
the  Indians  early  in  the  spring,  and  the  first  act  of  (^age 
was  to  confirm  this  requisition.  New  York  was  called 
upon  to  furnish  fourteen  hundred  men,  and  New  Jersey 
six  hundred.  The  demand  was  granted,  on  condition 
that  the  New  England  provinces  should  also  contril)ute  a 
just  proportion  to  the  general  defence.  This  condition 
was  complied  with,  and  the  troops  were  raised. 

Pennsylv^unia  had  been  required  to  furnish  a  thousand 
men;  but  in  this  quarter  many  difficulties  intervened. 
The  Assembly  of  the  province,  never  prompt  to  vote  sup- 
plies for  military  purposes,  was  now  embroiled  in  ti>at 
obstinate  quarrel  with  the  proprietors,  which  for  years 
past  had  clogged  all  the  wheels  of  government.  The 
proprietors  insisted  on  certain  pretended  rights,  which 
the  Assembly  strenuously  opposed ;  and  the  governors, 
who  represented  the  proprietary  interest,  were  bound  by 
imperative  instructions  to  assert  these  claims,  in  spite  of 
all  opposition.  On  the  present  occasion,  the  chief  point 
of  dispute  related  to  the  taxation  of  the  proprietary  es- 
tates, the  governor,  in  confoi^nity  with  his  instructions, 
demanding  that  they  should  be  assessed  at  a  lower  rate 
than  other  lands  of  equal  value  in  the  province.  The 
Assembly  stood  their  ground,  and  refused  to  remove  the 
obnoxious  clauses  in  the  supply  bill.  'Message  after 
message  passed  between  the  house  and  the  governor; 
mutual  recrimination  ensued,  and  ill  blood  was  engendered. 
At  length,  in  view  of  the  miserable  condition  of  the  prov- 
ince,  the   desperation   of   the    frontier   people,   and  the 

clared  that  he  was  a  Quaker,  and  begged  for  mercy.    The  In- 
dians laughed,  and  struck  him  dead  witli  a  tomahawk. 


POLITICAL  DISPUTES. 


333 


danger  of  a  general  insurrection,  the  Assembly  consented  to 
waive  their  rights,  and  passed  the  bill  under  protest, 
voting  fifty  thousand  pounds  for  the  service  of  the  cam- 
paign. The  quarrel  was  so  long  protracted  uiat  the  bill  did 
not  receive  the  governor's  assent  until  the  spring,  and  in 
the  mean  time  the  province  had  become  the  scene  of  most 
singular  disorders. 

These  disturbances  may  be  ascribed,  in  some  degree,  to 
the  renewed  activity  of  the  enemy,  who,  during  a  great 
part  of  the  autumn,  had  left  the  borders  in  comparative 
quiet.  As  the  winter  closed  in,  their  attacks  became 
more  frequent,  and  districts,  repeopled  during  the  interval 
of  calm,  were  again  made  desolate.  Again  the  valleys 
were  illumined  by  the  flames  of  burning  houses,  and  fam- 
ilies fled  shivering  through  the  biting  air  of  the  winter 
night,  while  the  fires  behind  them  shed  a  ruddy  glow 
upon  the  snow-covered  mountains.  The  scouts,  who  on 
snowshoes  explored  the  track  of  the  marauders,  found 
the  bodies  of  their  victims  lying  in  the  forest,  stripped 
naked,  and  frozen  to  marble  hardness.  The  distress, 
wrath,  and  terror  of  the  borderers  produced  results 
suflBciently  remarkable  to  deserve  a  separate  examination. 


p. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  INDIANS  RAISE    THE  SIEGE  OP  DETROIT. 

I  RETURN  to  the  long-forgotten  garrison  of  Detroit, 
which  was  left  still  beleaguered  by  an  increasing  multitude 
of  savages,  and  disheartened  by  the  unhappy  defeat  of 
Captain  Dalzell's  detachment.  The  schooner,  so  boldly 
defended  by  her  crew,  against  a  force  of  more  than  twenty 
times  their  ^  number,  brought  to  the  fort  a  much  needed 
supply  of  provision.  It  was  not,  however,  adequate  to 
the  wants  of  the  garrison,  and  the  Avhole  were  put  upon 
the  shortest  possible  allowance. 

It  was  now  the  end  of  September.  The  Ii.i  as,  with 
unexampled  pertinacity,  had  pressed  the  siege  since  the 
beginning  of  May ;  but  at  length  their  unwonted  con- 
stancy began  to  fail.  The  tidings  had  reached  them  that 
Major  Wilkins,  with  a  strong  force,  was  on  his  way  to 
Detroit.  They  feared  the  consequences  of  an  attack,  es- 
pecially as  their  ammunition  was  almost  exhausted ;  and 
by  this  time,  most  of  them  were  inclined  to  sue  for  peace, 
as  the  easiest  mode  of  gaining  safety  for  themselves,  and 
at  the  same  time  lulling  the  English  into  security.  They 
thought  that  by  this  means  they  might  retire  un- 
molested to  their  wintering  grounds,  and  renew  the  war 
with  good  hope  of  success  in  the  spring. 

Accordingly,  on  the  twelfth  of  October,  Wapocomoguth, 
great  chief  of  the  Mississaugas,  a  branch  of  the  O  jib  was, 
living  within  the  present  limits  of  Upper  Canada,  came  to 
the  fort  with  a  pipe  of  peace.  He  began  his  speech  to 
Major  Gladwyn,  with  tlie  glaring  falsehood  that  he  and 
his  people  had  always  been  friends  of  the  English.  They 
334 


LETTER  FROM  NEYON  TO  PONTIAC. 


835 


fi 


were  now,  he  added,  anxious  to  conclude  a  formal  treaty 
of  lasting  peace  and  amity.  He  next  dec'*  ^ed  that  he  had 
been  sent  as  deputy  by  the  Pottawattamies,  O  jib  was,  and 
Wyandots,  who  had  instructed  him  to  say  that  they 
sincerely  repented  of  their  bad  conduct,  asked  forgiveness, 
and  humbly  begged  for  peace.  Gladwyn  perfectly 
understood  the  hollowness  of  these  professions,  but  the 
circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed  made  it  expedient 
to  listen  to  their  overtures.  His  garrison  was  threatened 
witli  famine,  and  it  was  impossible  to  procure  provision 
while  completely  surrounded  by  hostile  Indians.  He 
therefore  replied,  that,  though  he  was  not  empowered  to 
grant  peace,  he  would  still  consent  to  a  truce.  The 
Mississauga  deputy  left  the  fort  with  this  reply,  and 
Gladwyn  immediately  took  advantage  of  this  lull  in  the 
storm  to  collect  provision  among  the  Canadians ;  an  at- 
tempt in  which  he  succeeded  so  well  that  the  fort  was 
soon  furnished  with  a  tolerable  supply  for  the  winter. 

The  Ottawas  alone,  animated  by  the  indomitable  spirit 
of  Pontiac,  had  refused  to  ask  for  peace,  and  still  persisted 
in  a  course  of  petty  hostilities.     They  fired  at  intervals  on 
the  English  foraging  parties,   until,  on  the   thirtieth  of 
October,  an  unexpected  blow  was  given  to  the  hopes  of  their 
great  chief.     French  messe^ ;  ^.rs  came  to  Detroit  with  a 
letter  from  M.  Neyon,  commandant  of  Fort  Chartres,  the 
principal  post  in  the  Illinois   country.     This  letter  was 
one  of  those  which,  on  demand  of  General  Amherst,  Neyon, 
'  with  a  very  bad  grace,  had  sent  to  the  different  Indian 
tribes.     It  assured  Pontiac  that  he  could  expect  no  assist- 
ance from  the  French ;  that  they  and  the  English  were  now 
at  peace,  and  regarded  each  other  as  brothers,  and  that  the 
Indians  had  better  abandon  hostilities  which  could  lead  to 
no  good  result.     The  emotions  of  Pontiac  at  receiving  this 
message  may  be  conceived.  His  long-cherished  hopes  of  as- 
sistance from  the  French  were  swept  away  at  once,  and  he 
saw  himself  and  his  people  thrown  back  upon  their  own 
slender  resources.    In  rage   and  mortification,   he    left 
Detroit,  and,  with  a  number  of  his  chiefs,  repaired  to  the 


i     ,  M 


33(1 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTTAC. 


Uiyj.r  Maiunce,  with  tluMhvsiKii  of  stirring  up  the  Indians 
in  tluit  (luartc'r,  and  renewing  hostilities  in  the  si)rinLr 

About  thoniiddle  of  Novend.cM-,  not  many   days  after 
I  ontiae  s  departure,  two  friendly  Wyandot  Indians  frcn 
the  anen.it   settlement  at  Lorette,  ncnir  Quebec,  crossed 
the  river,   and  ask(Hl   admittanc^e   into  the   f„rt.     One  (,f 
them  then  unslui>g  his  powder-liorn,  and,  taking  out  a 
false  bottom,  disclosed  a  clos(dy-folded  letter,  which  he 
gnve   to  Major   (Jladwyn.     The   letter  was  from   Major 
Wilknis,  and  contained  the  disastrous  news  tliat  the  de- 
tachment under  his  connnand  had  been  overtaken  by  a 
storm    that  many  of  the  boats  liad  been  wrecked,  tliat 
seventy  men  had  perished,  that  all  the  stores  and  annnuni- 
tion  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  detachment  forced  to  re- 
turn to  Niagara     This  intelligence  had  an  effect  upon 
the  garrison  which  rendered  the  prospect  of  the  cold  and 
cheerless  wii^ter  yet  more  dreary  and  forlorn 

The  sumnier  had  long  since  drawn  to  a  close,  and  the 
verdant  landscape  around  Detroit  had  undergone  an 
ominous  transformation.  Touched  by  the  first  October 
frosts,  the  forest  glowed  like  a  bed  of  tulips ;  and  all 
along  he  river  bank,  the  painted  foliage,  brightened  by 
the  autumnal  sun,  reflected  its  mingled  colors  upon  the 
dark  water  below.  The  western  wind  was  fraught  with 
lT'i  f  "^^^f  ti«»>  ^^n^l  in  the  clear,  sharp  air,  the  form 
of  the  fish-hawk,  sadingover  the  distant  headland,  seemed 
almost  within  range  of  the  sportsman's  gun 

A  week  or  two  elapsed,  and  then  succeeded  that  gentler 
season  which  bears  among  its  the  name  of  the  Indian 
summer ;  when  a  light  haze  rests  upon  the  morning  land- 
scape and  the  many-colored  woods  seem  wrapped  in  the 
thin  drapery  of  a  veil ;  when  the  air  is  mild  and  calm  as 
that  of  early  June,  and  at  evening  the  sun  goes  down 
amid  a  warm,  voluptuous  beauty,  that  may  well  outrival 
the  softest  tints  of  Italy.  But  through  all  the  still  and 
breathless  afternoon,  the  leaves  have  fallen  fast  in  the 
woods,  like  flakes  of  snow,  and  everything  betokens  that 
im  last  nielanclioly  change  is  at  hand.    And,  in  truth,  on 


INDIANS  AT  T)IKU{  IIUNTINCJ-OROUNDS. 


rj;j7 


tho  morrow  th(^  sky  is  ovcii'sprejul  witli  cold  and  Htoriiiy 
clouds,  and  a  raw,  piercing  wind  blows  angrily  from 
the  north-east.  The  shivering  sentinel  (juitikons  his 
step  along  tho  rampart,  and  the  half-naked  Indian  folds 
his  tatttn-ed  blanket  close  around  him.  The  shrivelled 
leaves  are  blown  from  the  trees,  jind  soon  the  gusts  are 
whistling  and  howling  amid  gray,  nak(;d  twigs  and  mossy 
hnaiches.  Here  and  there,  indeed,  the  beech-tree,  as  tho 
wind  sweeps  among  its  rigid  boughs,  shakes  its  pale  as- 
scmbliige  of  crisp  and  rustling  leaves.  The  pines  and 
tiis,  with  their  rough  tops  of  dark  evergreen,  bend 
and  moan  in  the  wind,  and  the  crow  caws  sullenly,  as 
struggling  against  the  gusts,  he  flaps  his  black  wings 
above  the  denuded  woods. 

The  vicinity  of  Detroit  was  now  almost  abandoned  hy 
its  besiegers,  who  had  scattered  among  the  forests  to  seek 
sustenance  through  the  winter  for  themselves  and  their 
families.  Unlike  the  buffalo-hunting  tribes  of  the  west- 
ern plains,  they  could  not  at  this  season  remain  togetlier 
in  large  bodies.  The  comparative  scarcity  of  game  forced 
them  to  separate  into  small  bands,  or  even  into  single 
families.  Some  steered  their  canoes  far  northward,  across 
Lake  Huron,  while  others  turned  westward,  and  struck 
into  the  great  wilderness  of  Michigan.  Wandering  among 
forests,  bleak,  cheerless,  and  choked  with  snow,  now  fam- 
ishing with  want,  now  cloyed  with  repletion,  they  passed 
the  dull,  cold  winter.  The  chase  yielded  their  only  sub- 
sistence, and  the  slender  lodges,  borne  on  the  backs  of  the 
sijuaws,  were  their  only  covering.  Encamped  at  intervals 
by  the  margin  of  some  frozen  lake,  surround  .1 1  /  all  that 
is  most  stern  and  dreary  in  the  aspects  of  -^.n''  re,  they 
were  subjected  to  every  hardship,  and  endured  all  with 
stubborn  stoicism.  Sometimes,  during  the  frosty  night, 
they  were  gathered  in  groups  about  the  flickering  lodge- 
fire,  listening  to  traditions  of  their  forefathers,  and  wild 
tales  of  magic  and  incantation.  Perhaps,  before  the  season 
was  past,  some  bloody  feud  broke  out  among  them. ;  per- 
haps they  were  assailed  by  their  ancient  enemies  the  Dah- 

22 


■  r  *:' 


33S 


THE  CONSPIRAUY  OF  PONTIAC. 


cotah  ;  or  perhaps  some  sinister  omen  or  evil  dream  spread 
more  terror  through  the  camp  than  the  presence  of  an 
actual  danger  would  have  awakened.  With  the  return 
of  spring,  the  scattered  parties  once  more  united,  and 
moved  tov/ards  Detroit,  to  indulge  their  unforgotten 
hatred  against  the  English. 

Detroit  had  been  the  central  point  of  the  Indian  opera- 
tions ;  its  capture  had  been  their  favorite  project ;  around 
it  they  had  concentrated  their  greatest  force,  and  the 
failure  of  the  attempt  proved  disastrous  to  their  cause. 
Upon  ihe  Six  Nations,  more  especially,  it  produced  a 
marked  effect.  The  friendly  tribes  of  this  confederacy 
were  confirmed  in  th-^'^  friendship,  while  the  hostile 
Senecas  began  to  lose  nuart.  Availing  himself  of  this 
state  of  things.  Sir  William  Johnson,  about  he  middle  of 
the  winter,  persuaded  a  number  of  Six  Nation  warriors, 
by  dint  of  gifts  and  promises,  to  go  out  against  the  enemy. 
lie  stimulated  their  zeal  by  offering  rewards  of  fifty  dollars 
for  the  heads  of  the  two  principal  Delaware  chiefs.*  Two 
hundred  of  them,  accompanied  by  a  few  provincials,  left 
the  Oneida  country  during  the  month  of  February,  and 
directed  their  course  southward.  They  had  been  out  but 
a  few  days,  when  they  found  an  encampment  of  forty 
Delawares,  command^ '  by  a  formidable  chief  known  as 
Captain  Bull,  who,  wiui  his  warriors,  was  on  his  way  to 
attack  the  settlements.  They  surrounded  the  camp  un- 
discovered, during  the  night,  and  at  dawn  of  day  raised 

*  Exti  .>ct  from  a  MS.  Letter-^Sir  W.  Johnson  to . 


"  Eor  God's  Sake  exert  yourselves  like  Men  whose  Honour  & 
every  thing  dear  to  them  is  now  at  stake  ;  the  General  has  great 
Expectations  from  the  success  of  your  Party,  &  indeed  so  h<ave 
all  People  here,  &  I  hope  they  will  not  be  mistaken, — in  Order 
to  Encourage  your  party  I  will,  out  of  my  own  Pocket,  pay  to 
any  of  the  Party  50  Dollars  for  the  Head  Men  of  the  Delawares 
there,  viz.   Onuperaquedra,  and  50  Dollars  more  for  the  Head  of 

Long  Coat,  alias ,  in  which  case  they  must  either  bring  them 

alive  or  their  wdiole  Heads  ;  the  Money  shall  be  paid  to  the 
Man  who  takes  or  brings  me  them,  or  their  Heads, — this  I  would 
have  you  tell  to  the  Head  men  of  the  Party,  as  it  will  make  them       M 
more  eager." 


THE  WAR  IN  THE  SOUTH. 


339 


the  war-whoop  and  rushed  in.  The  astonished  Dela wares 
had  no  time  to  snatch  their  arnis.  They  were  all  made 
prisoners,  taken  to  Albany,  and  thence  sent  down  to  New 
York,  where  they  were  conducted,  under  a  strong  guard, 
to  the  common  jail,  the  mob  crowding  round  them  as  they 
passed,  and  admiring  the  sullen  ferocity  of  their  coun- 
tenances. Not  long  after  this  success.  Captain  Montour, 
with  a  party  of  provincials  and  Six  Nation  warriors,  de- 
stroyed the  town  of  Kanestio,  and  other  hostile  villages, 
on  the  upper  branches  of  tli  Susquehanna.  This  blow, 
inflicted  by  supposed  friends,  produced  more  effect  upon 
the  enemy  than  greater  reverses  would  have  done,  if  en- 
countered at  the  hands  of  the  English  alone. 

The  calamities  which  overwhelmed  the  borders  of  the 
middle  provinces  were  not  unfelt  at  the  south.  It  was 
happy  for  the  people  of  the  Carolinas  that  the  Cherokees, 
who  had  broken  out  against  them  three  years  before,  had 
at  that  time  received  a  chastisement  wliich  they  could 
never  forget,  and  from  which  they  had  not  yet  begun 
to  recover.  They  were  thus  compelled  to  remain  com- 
paratively quiet,  while  the  ancient  feud  between  them 
and  the  northern  tribes  would,  under  any  circumstances, 
have  prevented  their  uniting  with  the  latter.  The  con- 
tagion of  the  war  reached  them,  however,  and  they  per- 
petrated numerous  murders  ;  while  the  neighboring  na- 
tion of  the  Creeks  rose  in  open  hostility,  and  committed 
formidable  ravages.  Towards  the  north,  the  Indian  tribes 
were  compelled  by  their  position,  to  remain  tranquil,  yet 
they  showed  many  signs  of  uneasiness ;  and  those  of 
Nova  Scotia  caused  great  alarm,  by  mustering  in  large 
bodies  in  the  neighborhood  of  Halifax.  The  excitement 
among  them  was  temporary,  and  they  dispersed  without 
attempting  mischief. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


THE  PAXTON  MEN. 

Along  the  thinly-settled  borders,  two  thousand  persons 
had  been  killed,  or  carried  off,  and  nearly  an  equal  number 
of  families  driven  from  their  homes.  The  frontier  people 
of  Pennsylvania,  goaded  to  desperation  by  long-continued 
suffering,  were  divided  between  rage  against  the  Indians, 
and  resentment  against  the  Quakers,  who  had  yielded 
them  cold  sympathy  and  inefficient  aid.  The  horror  and 
fear,  grief  and  fury,  with  which  these  men  looked  upon 
the  mangled, remains  of  fnends  and  relatives,  set  language 
at  defiance.  They  were  of  a  lude  and  hardy  stamp, 
hunters,  scouts,  rangers,  Indian  traders,  and  backwoods 
farmers,  who  had  grown  up  with  arms  in  their  hands, 
and  been  trained  under  all  the  influences  of  the  warlike 
frontier.  They  fiercely  complained  that  they  were  inter- 
posed as  a  barrier  between  the  rest  of  the  province  and  a 
ferocious  enemy,  and  that  they  were  sacrificed  to  the 
safety  of  men  who  looked  with  indifference  on  their 
miseries,  and  lost  no  opportunity  to  extenuate  and 
smooth  away   the   cruelties  of  their  destroyers.*    They 

*  Extract  from  the  declaration  of  Lazarus  Stewart. 

"  Did  we  not  brave  the  summ^'s  heat  and  the  winter's  cold, 
and  the  savage  tomahawk,  while  the  Inhabitants  of  Philadelphia, 
Philadelphia  county,  Bucks,  and  Chester,  '  ate,  drank,  and  were 
merry '  ? 

"  If  a  white  man  kill  an  Indian,  it  is  a  murder  far  exceeding 
nny  crime  upon  record  ;  he  must  not  be  tried  in  the  countv 
where  he  lives,  or  where  the  offence  was  committed,  but  in 
Philadelphia,  that  he  may  be  tried,  convicted,  sentenced  and 
hung  without  delay.  If  an  Indian  kill  a  white  man,  it  was  the 
act  of  an  ignorant  Heathen,  perhaps  in  liquor  ;  alas,  poor  inno- 
cent I  he  is  sent  to  the  friendly  Indians  that  he  may  be  made  a 
Christian" 
340 


EFFECTS  OF  INDIAN  HOSTILITIES. 


341 


declared  that  the  Quakers  would  go  farther  to  befriend  a 
murdering  Delaware  than  to  succor  a  fellow-countrymwi — 
that  they  loved  red  blood  better  than  white,  and  a  pagan 
better  than  a  Presbyterian.  The  Pennsylvania  borderers 
were,  as  we  have  seen,  chiefly  the  descendants  of  Presby- 
terian emigrants  from  the  north  of  Ireland.  They  had 
inherited  some  portion  of  their  forefathers'  sectarian  zeal, 
which,  while  it  did  nothing  to  soften  the  barbarity  of 
tlieir  manners,  served  to  inflame  their  animosity  against 
the  Quakers,  and  added  bitterness  to  their  just  com- 
plaints. It  supplied,  moreover,  a  convenient  sanction  for 
the  indulgence  of  their  hatred  and  vengeance,  for  in  the 
general  turmoil  of  their  passions,  fanaticism  too  was 
awakened,  and  they  interpreted  the  command  that 
Joshua  should  destroy  the  heathen  into  an  injunction  that 
they  should  exterminate  the  Indians. 

The  prevailing  excitement  was  not  confined  to 
the  vulgar.  Even  the  clergy  and  the  chief  magistrates 
shared  it,  and  while  they  lamented  the  excess  of  the 
popular  resentment,  they  maintained  that  the  general 
complaints  were  founded  in  justice.  Viewing  all  the 
circumstances,  it  is  not  greatly  to  be  wondered  at  that 
some  of  the  more  violent  class  were  inflamed  to  the  com- 
mission of  atrocities  which  bear  no  very  favorable  com- 
parison with  those  of  the  Indians  themselves. 

It  is  not  easy  for  those  living  in  the  tranquillity  of 
polished  life  fully  to  conceive  the  depth  and  force  of  that 
unquenchable,  indiscriminate  hate  which  Indian  outrages 
cfin  awaken  in  those  who  have  suffered  them.  The 
chronicles  of  the  American  borders  are  filled  with  the 
deeds  of  men,  who  having  lost  all  by  the  merciless  toma- 
hawk, have  lived  for  vengeance  alone  ;  and  such  men  will 
never  cease  to  exist  so  long  as  a  hostile  tribe  remains 
within  striking  distance  of  an  American  settlement. 
Never  was  this  hatred  more  deep  or  more  general  than 
on  the  Pennsylvania  frontier  at  this  period ;  and  never, 
perhaps,  did  so  many  collateral  causes  unite  to  inflame  it 
to  madness.    It  was  not  long  in  finding  a  vent. 


342 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Near  the  Susquehanna,  and  at  no  great  distance  from 
the  town  of  Lancaster,  was  a  spot  known  as  the  Manor  of 
Conestoga, ,  where  a  small  ])and  of  Indians,  chiefly  of 
Iroquois  blood,  had  been  seated  since  the  first  settlement 
of  the  province.  William  Penn  had  visited  and  made  a 
treaty  with  them,  which  had  been  confirmed  by  several 
succeeding  governors,  so  that  the  band  had  always  re- 
mained on  terms  of  friendship  with  the  English.  Yet, 
like  other  Indian  communities  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
whites,  they  had  dwindled  in  numbers  and  prosperity, 
until  they  were  reduced  to  twenty  persons,  who  inhabited 
a  cluster  of  squalid  cabins,  and  lived  by  beggary  and  the 
sale  of  brooms,  baskets,  and  wooden  ladles,  made  by  the 
women.  The  men  spent  a  small  part  of  their  time  in 
hr^t^ng,  and  lounged  away  the  rest  in  idleness.  In  the 
immediate  npighborhood,  they  were  commonly  regarded 
as  harmless  vagabonds ;  but  elsewhere  a  more  unfavor- 
able opinion  was  entertained,  and  they  were  looked  upon 
as  secretly  abetting  the  enemy,  acting  as  spies,  giving 
shelter  to  scalping-parties,  and  even  aiding  them  in  their 
depredations.  That  these  suspicions  were  not  wholly  un- 
founded is  shown  by  a  conclusive  mass  of  evidence,  though 
it  is  probable  that  the  treachery  was  confined  to  one  or 
two  individuals.  The  exasperated  frontiersmen  were  not 
in  a  mood  to  discriminate,  and  the  innocent  were  destined 
to  share  the  fate  of  the  guilty. 

On  the  east  bank  of  the  Susquehanna,  some  distance 
above  Conestoga,  stood  the  little  town  of  Paxton  a  place 
which,  since  the  French  war,  had  occupied  a  position  of 
extreme  exposure.  In  the  year  1755,  the  Indians  had 
burned  it  to  the  ground,  killing  many  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  reducing  the  rest  to  poverty.  It  had  since  been  re- 
built, but  its  tenants  were  the  relatives  of  those  who  had 
perished,  and  the  bitterness  of  the  recollection  was  en- 
hanced by  the  sense  of  their  own  more  recent  sufferings. 
Mention  has  before  been  made  of  John  Elder,  the  Presby- 
terian minister  of  this  place,  a  man  whose  worth,  good 
sense,  and  superior  education  gave  him  the  character  of 


MATTHEW  SMITH  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 


343 


counsellor  and  director  throughout  the  neighborhood,  aiid 
caused  him  to  be  known  and  esteemed  even  in  Philadel- 
phia. His  position  was  a  peculiar  one.  From  the  rough 
pulpit  of  his  little  church,  he  had  often  preached  to  an  as- 
sembly of  armed  men,  while  scouts  and  sentinels  were 
stationed  without  to  give  warning  of  the  enemy's  ap- 
proach.* The  men  of  Paxton,  under  the  auspices  of 
their  pastor,  formed  themselves  into  a  body  of  rangers, 
who  became  noted  for  their  zeal  and  efficiency  in  defend- 
ing the  borders.  One  of  their  principal  leaders  was 
Matthew  Smith,  a  man  who  had  influence  and  popularity 
among  his  associates,  and  was  not  without  pretensions  to 
education,  while  he  shared  a  full  proportion  of  the  general 
hatred  against  Indians,  and  suspicion  against  the  band  of 
Conestoga. 

Towards  the  middle  of  December,  a  scout  came  to  the 
house  of  Smith,  and  reported  that  an  Indian,  known  to 
liave  committed  depredations  in  the  neighborhood,  had 
been  traced  to  Conestoga.  Smith's  resolution  was  taken 
at  once.  He  called  five  of  his  companions,  and,  having 
armed  and  mounted,  they  set  out  for  the  Indian  settle- 
ment. They  reached  it  early  in  the  night,  and  Smith, 
leaving  his  horse  in  charge  of  the  others,  crawled  forward, 
rifle  in  hand,  to  reconnoitre,  when  he  saw,  or  fancied  he 
saw,  a  number  of  armed  warriors  in  the  cabins.  Upon 
this  discovery  he  withdrew,  and  rejoined  his  associates. 
Believing  themselves  too  weak  for  an  attack,  the  party  re- 
turned to  Paxton.  Their  blood  was  up,  and  they  deter- 
mined to  extirpate  the  Conestogas.  Messengers  went 
aliroad  through  the  neighborhood ;  and,  on  the  following 
day,  about  fifty  armed  and  mounted  men,  chiefly  from 

*  On  one  occasion,  a  body  of  Indians  approached  Paxton  on 
Sunday,  and  sent  forward  one  of  their  number,  whom  the  Eng- 
Ush  supposed  to  be  a  friend,  to  reconnoitre.  The  spy  reported 
that  eveiy  man  in  the  church,  incUiding  the  preacher,  had  a 
rifle  at  his  side  ;  upon  wliich  the  enemy   withdrew,  and  satisfied 


mi-  _ 
XItU 


tliuniSelveS  with  buriiiiigu,  fuw  liOUSOS  in  the  xiuigliburliOud. 
papers  of  Mr.  Elder  were  submitted  to  the  writer's  examination 
by  Ills  son,  an  aged  and  esteemed  citizen  of  Harrisburg. 


344 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  towns  of  Paxton  and  Donnegal,  assembled  at  the  place 
agreed  upon.  Led  by  Matthew  Smith,  they  took  the 
road  to  Conestoga,  where  they  arrived  a  little  before 
daybreak,  on  the  morning  of  the  fourteenth.  As  they 
drew  near,  they  discerned  the  light  of  a  fire  in  one  of  the 
cabins,  gleaming  across  the  snow.  Leaving  their  horses 
in  the  forest,  they  separated  into  small  parties,  and  ad- 
vanced on  several  sides  at  once.  Though  they  moved 
with  some  caution,  the  sound  of  their  footsteps  or  their 
voices  caught  the  ear  of  an  Indian,  and  they  saw  him 
issue  from  one  of  the  cabins,  and  walk  forward  in  the 
direction  of  the  noise.  He  came  so  near  that  one  of  the 
the  men  fancied  that  he  recognized  him.  «  He  is  the  o'-e 
that  killed  my  mother,"  he  exclaimed  with  an  oath  ;  and, 
firing  his  rifle,  brought  the  Indian  down.  With  a  general 
shout,  the  furious  ruffians  burst  into  the  cabins,  and  shot, 
stabbed,  and  hacked  to  death  all  whom  they  found  there! 
It  happened  that  only  six  Indians  were  in  the  place,  the 
rest,  in  accordance  with  their  vagrant  habits,  being  scat- 
tered about  the  neighborhood.  Thus  balked  of  their 
complete  vengeance,  the  murderers  seized  upon  what 
little  booty  they  could  find,  set  the  cabins  on  fire,  and 
departed  at  dawn  of  day.* 

The  morning  was  cold  and  murky.  Snow  was  falling, 
and  already  lay  deep  upon  the  ground;  and,  as  they 
urged  their  horses  through  the  drifts,  they  were  met 
by  one  Thomas  Wright,  who,  struck  by  their  appearance, 

*  The  above  account  of  the  massacre  is  chiefly  drawn  from  the 
narrative  of  Matthew  Smith  himself.  This  singular  paper  was 
published  by  Mr.  Redmond  Conyngham,  of  Lancaster,  in  the 
Lancaster  Intelligencer  for  1843.  Mr.  Conyngham  states  that  he 
procured  it  from  the  son  of  Smith,  for  wliose  information  it  had 
been  written.  The  account  is  partially  confirmed  by  incidental 
allusions,  in  a  letter  written  by  another  of  the  Paxton  men,  and 
also  published  by  Mr.  Conyngham.  This  gentleman  employed 
himself  with  most  unwearied  diligence  in  collecting  a  voluminous 
mass  of  documents,  comprising,  ptuhaps,  every  thing  that  could 
contribute  to  extenuate  the  conduct  of  the  Paxton  men  ;  and  to 
these  papers,  as  published  from  > :.;n.'  to  tine  in  the  above-men- 
tioned newspaper,  reference  will  often  b©  mad©, 


MASSACRE  OF  TU^  CONESTOGAS. 


345 


stopped  to  converse  with  them.  They  freely  told  him 
what  they  had  done,  and,  on  his  expressing  surprise  and 
liorror,  one  of  them  demanded  if  he  behoved  in  the  Bible, 
and  if  the  Scripture  di  not  command  that  the  heathen 
should  be  destroyed. 

They  soon  after  separated,  dispersing  among  the  farm- 
houses, to  procure  food  for  themselves  and  their  horses. 
Several  rode  to  the  house  of  Robert  Barber,  a  prominent 
settler  in  the  neighborhood,  who,  seeing  tlie  strangers 
stamping  thpir  feet   and   shaking  the  snow  from  their 
l)lanket  coats,  invited  them  to  enter,  and  offered  them  re- ' 
freshment.     Having  remained   for  a  short   time  seated 
before  his  fire,  they  remounted  and  rode  off  through  the 
snow-storm.     A  boy  of  the  family,  who  had  gone  to  look 
at  the  horses  of  the  visitors,  came  in  and  declared  that  he 
had  seen  a  tomahawk,  covered  with  blood,  hanging  from 
each  man's  saddle,  and  that  a  small  gun,  belonging  to  one 
of  the  Indian  children,   had   been   leaning  against  the 
fence.     Barb  t  at  once  guessed   the    truth,   and,   with 
several  of  his  neighbors,  proceeded  to  the  Indian  settle- 
ment, where  they  found  the  solid  log  cabins  still  on  fire. 
They  buried  the  remains  of  the  victims,  which  Barber 
compared  in  appearance  to  half -burnt  logs.     While  they 
were  thus  engaged,  the  sheriff  of  Lancaster,  with  a  party 
of  men,  arrived  on  the  spot ;  and  the  first  care  of  the 
officer  was  to  send  through  the  neighborhood  to  collect 
the  Indians,  fourteen  in  number,  who  had  escaped  the 
massacre.    This  was  soon  accomplished  and  the  unhappy 
survivors,  learning  the  fate  of  their  friends  and  relatives, 
were  in  great  terror  for  their  own  lives,  and  earnestly 
begged  protection.     They  were  conducted  to  Lancaster, 
where,  amid  great  excitement,  they  were  lodged  in  the 
county  jail,  a  strong  stone  building,  which  it  was  thought 
would  afford  the  surest  refuge. 

An  express  was  despatched  to  Philadelphia  with  news 
of  the  massacre,  on  hearing  which,  the  governor  issued  a 
nroclamation  d 


fVio   opf 


rlppnnnmnn'  tho  opf    n-nA     ^-PP^-ni-r^^  «     _ j 

-     ' '"&    '-■••■^    tiLv,    ctixvi     WiiCillig    iX      iCVVctiU 

for  the  discovery  of  the  perpetrators.      Undaunted  by 


346 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


this  measure,  and  enraged  that  any  of  their  victims 
should  have  escaped,  the  Paxton  men  determined  to  con- 
tinue  the  work  they  had  hegun.  In  this  resolution  they 
were  confirmed  by  the  prevailing  impression,  that  an  In- 
dian known  to  have  murdered  the  relatives  of  one  of  their 
number  was  among  those  who  had  received  the  protection 
of  the  magistrates  at  Lancaster.  They  sent  forward  a 
spy  to  gain  intelligence,  and,  on  his  return,  once  more 
met  at  their  rendezvous.  On  this  occasion,  their  nominal 
leader  was  Lazarus  Stewart,  who  was  esteemed  upon  the 
borders  as  a  brave  and  active  young  man,  and  who,  there 
is  strong  reason  to  believe,  entertained  no  worse  design 
than  that  of  seizing  the  obnoxious  Indian,  carrying  liini 
to  Carlisle,  and  there  putting  him  to  death,  in  case  he 
should  be  identified  as  the  murderer.  Most  of  his  follow- 
ers, however,  hardened  amidst  war  and  bloodshed,  were 
bent  on  indiscriminate  slaughter ;  a  purpose  which  they 
concealed  from  their  more  moderate  associates. 

Early  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  December,  the  party, 
about  fifty  in  number,  left  Paxton  on  their  desperate 
errand.  Elder  had  used  all  his  influence  to  divert  them 
from  their  design;  and  now,  seeing  them  depart,  he 
mounted  his  horse,  overtook  them,  and  addressed  them 
with  the  most  earnest  remonstrance.  Finding  his  words 
unheeded,  he  drew  up  his  horse  across  the  narrow  road 
in  front,  and  charged  them,  on  his  authority  as  their  pas- 
tor, to  return.  Upon  this,  Matthew  Smith  rode  forward, 
and,  pointing  bis  rifle  at  the  breast  of  Elder's  horse, 
threatened  to  fire  unless  he  drew  him  aside,  and  gave 
room  to  pass.  The  clergyman  was  forced  to  comply,  and 
the  party  proceeded. 

At  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  rioters, 
armed  with  rifle,  knife,  and  tomahawk,  rode  at  a  gallop 
into  Lancaster,  turned  their  horses  into  the  yard  of  the 
public  house,  ran  to  the  jail,  burst  open  the  door,  and 
rushed  tumultuously  in.  The  fourteen  Indians  were  in 
a  small  yard  adjacent  to  the  building,  surrounded  by 
high  stone  walls.    Hearing  the  shouts  of  the  mob,  and 


MASSACRE  IN  LANCASTER  JAIL. 


347 


startled  by  the  apparition  of  armed  men  in  the  doorway, 
two  or  three  of  them  snatched  up  billets  of  wood  in  self- 
defence.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  purpose  of  the 
Paxton  men,  this  show  of  resistance  banished  every 
thought  of  forbearance ;  and  the  foremost,  rushing  for- 
ward, fired  their  rifles  among  the  crowd  of  Indians.  In 
a  moment  more,  the  yard  was  filled  with  ruffians,  shout- 
ing, cursing,  and  firing  upon  the  cowering  wretches,  hold- 
ing the  muzzles  of  their  pieces,  in  some  instances,  so  near 
their  victims'  heads  that  the  brains  were  scattered  by  the 
explosion.  The  work  was  soon  finished.  The  bodies  of 
men,  women,  and  children,  mangled  with  outrageous 
brutality,  lay  scattered  about  the  yard,  and  the  mur- 
derers were  gone.* 

When  the  first  alarm  was  given,  the  magistrates  were 
in  the  church,  attending  the  Christmas  service,  which 
had  been  postponed  on  the  twenty-fifth.  The  door  was 
flung  open,  and  the  voice  of  a  man  half  breathless  was 
heard  in  broken  exclamations,  "Murder — the  jail — the 
Paxton  Boys — the  Indians." 

*  Deposition  of  Felix  Donolly,  keeper  of  Lancaster  jail.  Dec- 
laration of  Lazarus  Stewart,  published  by  Mr.  Conyngham. 
Rupp,  Hist,  of  York  and  Lancaster  Counties,  358.  Heckewelder, 
Nar.  of  Moravian  Missions,  79.     See  Appendix,  E. 

Soon  after  the  massacre,  Franklin  published  an  account  of  it 
at  Philadelphia,  which,  being  intended  to  strengthen  the  hands 
of  government  by  exciting  a  popular  sentiment  against  the 
rioters,  is  more  rhetorical  than  accurate.  The  following  is  his 
account  of  the  consummation  of  the  act : — 

"  When  the  poor  wretches  saw  they  had  no  protection  nigh, 
nor  could  possibly  escape,  tliey  divided  into  their  little  families, 
the  children  clinging  to  the  parents  ;  they  fell  on  their  knees, 
protested  their  innocence,  declared  their  love  to  the  English,  and 
that,  in  their  whole  lives,  they  had  never  done  them  injury  ;  and 
in  this  posture  they  all  received  the  hatchet  !  " 

This  is  a  pure  embellishment  of  the  fancy.  The  only  persons 
present  were  the  jailer  and  the  rioters  themselves,  who  unite  in 
testifying  that  the  Indians  died  with  the  unflinching  stoicism 
which  their  race  usually  exhibit  under  such  circumstances  ;  and 
indeed,  so  sudden  was  the  act,  that;  there  was  no  time  for  enact- 
ing the  scene  described  by  Franklin. 


iutt 


ft^s;? 


''Mfm 


848 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


■4 


IH- 


The  assembly  broke  up  in  disorder,  and  Shippen,  the 
principal  magistrate,  hastened  towards  the  scene  of  riot ; 
but  bcforo  he  could  reach  it,  all  was  finished,  and  the 
miiru'c).!^.^   were  galloping  in  a  body   from  the   town.* 
The  sheriif  and  the  coroner  had  mingled  among  the  rioters, 
aiding  and  abetting  them,  as  their  enemies  affirm,  but,' 
according  to  their  own  statement,  vainly  risking  their 
lives  to  restore  order.     A  company  of  Highland  soldiers, 
on  their  way  from  Fort  Pitt  to  Philadelphia,  were  en- 
camped near    the    town.      Their    commander,   Captain 
Robertson,  afterwards  declared  that  he  pnt  himself  in 
the  way  of  the  magistrates,  expecting  that  they  would 
call  upon  him  to  aid  the  civil  authority ;  while,  on  the 
contrary,  several  of  the  inhabitants   testify  that,  when 
they  urged  him  to  interfere,  he  replied,  with  an  oath,  that 
his  men  had  suffered  enough  from  Indians  already,  and 
should  not  btir  hand  or  foot  to  save  them.     Be  this  as  it 
may,  it  seems  certain  that  neither  soldiers  nor  magistrates, 
with   their  best  exertions,,    could   have  availed  to  pre- 
vent the  massacre ;  for  so  well  was  the  plan  concerted, 
that,  within  ten  or  twelve  minutes  after  the  alarm,  the 
Indians  were  dead,  arid  the   murderers   mounted  to  de- 
part. 

The  people  crowded  into  the  jail  yard  to  gaze  upon  the 

*  Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter— Edward  Shippen  to  Governor 
Penu. 

Lancastel",  27th  Dec,  1768,  p.  m. 
*'  Honoured  Sir : — 

"  I  am  to  aoqtiaint  your  Honour  that  between  two  and  :;hree  of 

the  Clock  this  afternoon,   upwards  of   a  hundred  armed  men 

from  the  Westward  rode  very  fast  into  Town,   turned  their 

Horses  into  Mr.  Slough's  (an  Innkeeper's)  yard,  and  proceeded 

with  the  greatest  precipitation  to  the  Work-House,  stove  open  the 

door  and  killed  all  the  Indians,  and  then  took  to  their  Horses  and 

rode  off ;  all  their  business  was  done,  &  they  were  returning  to 

their  Horses  before  I  could  get  half  way  down  to  the  Work-House. 

The  Sheriff  and  Coroner  however,  and  several  others,  got  down  as 

soon  as  the  rioters,  but  could  not  prevail  with  them  to  stop  tlieir 

hands.    Some  people  say  they  heard  them  declare  thev  v/ould 

proceed  to  the  Province  Island,  &  destroy  the  Indians  there." 


LAZARUS  STEWART. 


84» 


miserable  spectacle  ;  and,  when  their  curiosity  was  sated, 
the  bodies  were  gathered  together,  and  buried  not  far  from 
the  town,  where  they  reposed  three  quarters  of  a  century, 
until,  at  length,  the  bones  were  disinterred  in  preparing 
the  foundation  for  a  railroad. 

The  tidings  of  this  massacre  threw  the  country  into  a 
ferment.  Various  opinions  were  expressed ;  but,  in  the 
border  counties,  even  the  most  sober  and  moderate  re- 
garded it,  not  as  a  wilful  and  deliberate  crime,  but  as  the 
mistaken  act  of  rash  men,  fevered  to  desperation  by 
wrongs  and  sufferings.* 

When  the  news  reached  Philadelphia,  a  clamorous  out- 
cry rose  from  the  Quakers,  who  could  find  no  words  to 
express  their  horror  and  detestation.  They  assailed,  not 
the  rioters  only,  but  the  whole  Presbyterian  sect,  with  a 
tempest  of  abuse,  none  the  less  virulent  for  being  vented 
in  the  name  of  philanthropy  and  religion.  The  governor 
again  issued  a  proclamation,  offering  rewards  for  the 
detection  and  arrest  of  the  murderers ;  but  the  latter,  far 
from  shrinking  into  concealment,  proclaimed  their  deed 
in  the  face  of  day,  boasted  the  achievement,  and  defended 
it  by  reason  and  Scripture.     So  great  was  the  excitement 

*  Extract  from  a  Letter — Rev.  Mr.  Elder  to  Colonel  Burd. 

FaztOD,  1764. 

"  Lazarus  Stewart  is  still  threatened  by  the  Philadelphia  party  ; 
he  and  his  friends  talk  of  leaving — if  they  do,  the  province  will 
lose  some  of  their  truest  friends,  and  that  by  the  faults  of  others, 
not  their  own ;  for  if  any  cruelty  was  practised  on  the  Indians 
at  Conestogue  or  at  Lancaster,  it  was  not  by  his,  or  their  hands. 
There  is  a  great  reason  to  believe  that  much  injustice  has  been 
done  to  all  concerned.  In  the  contrariness  of  accounts,  we  must 
infer  that  much  rests  for  support  on  the  imagination,  or  in- 
terest of  the  witness.  The  characters  of  Stewart  and  his  friends 
were  well  established.  Ruffians  nor  bi-utal  they  were  not ; 
humane,  liberal  and  moral,  nay,  religious.  It  is  evidently  not 
the  wish  of  the  party  to  give  Stewart  a  fair  hearing.  All  he 
desires,  is  to  be  put  on  trial,  at  Lancaster,  near  the  scenes  of  the 
horrible  butcheries,  committed  bv  the  Indians  at  Tulpebooken, 
&c.,  when  he  can  have  the  testimony  of  the  Scouts  or  Rangers, 
men  whose  services  can  never  be  sufficiently  rewarded." 


I'M!. 


S50 


THE  COXSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


\W 


in  the  frontier  counties,  and  so  deep  the  sympathy  with 
the  rioters,  that  to  arrest  them  would  have  required  the 
employment  of  a  strong  military  force,  an  experiment  fur 
too  dangerous  to  be  tried.  Nothing  of  the  kind  was  at- 
tempted until  nearly  eight  years  afterwards,  when  Laz- 
arus Stewart  was  apprehended  on  the  charge  of  murder- 
ing  the  Indians  of  Conestoga.  Learning  that  his  trial 
was  to  take  place,  not  in  the  county  where  the  act  was 
committed,  but  in  Philadelphia,  and  thence  judging  that 
his  condemnation  was  certain,  he  broke  jail  and  escaped. 
Having  written  a  declaration  to  justify  his  conduct,  he 
called  his  old  associates  around  him,  set  the  provincial 
government  of  Pennsylvania  at  defiance,  and  withdrew  to 
Wyoming  with  his  band.  Here  he  joined  the  settlers 
recently  arrived  from  Connecticut,  and  thenceforth  played 
a  conspicuous  part  in  the  eventful  history  of  that  re- 
markable spot.* 

After  the  massacre  at  Conestoga,  the  excitement  in  the 
frontier  counties,  far  from  subsiding,  increased  in  violence 
daily,  and  various  circumstances  conspired  to  inflame  it, 
The  principal  of  these  was  the  course  pursued  by  the 
provincial  government  towards  the  Christian  Indians 
attached  to  the  Moravian  missions.  Many  years  had 
elapsed  since  the  Moravians  began  the  task  of  converting 
the  Indians  of  Pennsylvania,  and  their  steadfast  energy 
and  regulated  zeal  had  been  crowned  with  success.  They 
had  increased  in  both  temporal  and  spiritual  prosperity, 
and  several  thriving  settlements  of  their  converts,  had 
sprung  up  in  the  valley  of  the  Lehigh,  when  the  opening 

*  Extract  from  the  Declaration  of  Lazarus  Stewart. 

"  What  I  have  done,  was  done  for  tlie  security  of  hundreds  of 
settlers  on  the  frontiers.  The  blood  of  a  thousand  of  my  fellow 
creatures  called  for  vengeance.  As  a  Ranger,  I  sought  the  post 
of  danger,  and  now  you  ask  my  life.  Let  me  be  tried  where 
prejudice  has  not  prejudged  my  case.  Let  my  brave  Rangers, 
who  have  stemmed  the  blast  nobly,  and  never  flinched  ;  let  them 
have  an  equitable  trial ;  they  were  my  friends  in  the  hour  of 
danger — to  desert  them  now  were  cowardice  I  What  remains  is 
to  leave  our  cause  with  our  God,  and  our  guns." 


(I 


THE  MORAVIAN  CONVERTS. 


351 


of  the  French  war,  in  1755,  involved  them  in  unlooked- 
for  cdV(.;/'L  J8.  These  unhappy  neutrals,  between  the 
Frei>^h  uru  Indians  on  the  one  side,  and  the  English  on 
the  o:b,.,  excited  the  enmity  of  both,  and  while  from  tlie 
west  ti '  vera  threatened  by  the  hatchets  of  their  own 
couitry-ien,  they  were  menaced  on  the  east  by  the  no 
less  )i  rdable  vengeance  of  the  white  settlers,  who,  in 
their  distress  and  terror,  never  doubted  that  the  Moravian 
converts  were  in  league  with  the  enemy.  The  popular 
rage  against  them  at  length  grew  so  furious,  that  their 
destruction  was  resolved  upon.  The  settlers  assembled 
and  advanced  against  the  Moravian  community  of  Gnad- 
enhutten ;  but  the  French  and  Indians  gained  the  first 
blow,  and,  descending  upon  the  doomed  settlement,  utterly 
d'^stroyed  it.  This  disaster,  deplorable  as  it  was  in  itself, 
proved  the  safety  of  the  other  Moravian  settlements,  by 
making  it  fully  apparent  that  their  inhabitants  were  not 
in  league  with  the  enemy.  They  were  suffered  to  remain 
unmolested  for  several  years ;  but  with  the  murders  that 
ushered  in  Pontiac's  war,  in  1763,  the  former  suspicion 
revived,  and  the  expediency  :f  destroying  the  Moravian 
Indians  was  openly  debated.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
summer,  several  outrages  were  committed  upon  the 
settlers  in  the  neighborhood,  and  the  Moravian  Indians 
were  loudly  accused  of  taking  part  in  them.  These 
charges  were  never  fully  confuted  ;  and,  taking  into  view 
the  harsh  treatment  which  the  converts  had  always  ex- 
perienced from  the  whites,  it  is  highly  probable  that  some 
of  them  were  disposed  to  sympathize  with  their  heathen 
countrymen,  who  are  known  to  have  courted  their  alli- 
ance. The  Moravians  had,  however,  excited  in  their  con- 
verts a  high  degree  of  religious  enthusiasm,  which,  di- 
rected as  it  was  by  the  teachings  of  the  missionaries,  went 
farther  than  anything  else  could  have  done  to  soften 
their  national  prejudices,  and  wean  them  from  their  war- 
like habits. 

About  three  months  before  the  massacre  at  Conestoga, 
a  party  of  drunken  rangers,  fired  by  the  general  resent- 


r 


KS%%iJ 


352 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ment  against  the  Moravian  Indians,  murdered  several  of 
them,  both  men  and  women,  whom  they  found  sleeping. 
in  a  barn.     Not  long  after,  the  same  party  of  rangers  were 
in  their  turn,  sarprised  and  killed,  some  peaceful  settlers 
ot  the  neighborhood  sharing  their  fate.     This  act  was  at 
once  ascribed,  justly  or  unjustly,  to  the  vengeance  of  the 
converted  Indians,  relatives  of  the  murdered ;  and  the 
fiontier  people,  who,  like  the  Paxton  men,  were  chieflv 
Scotch  and  Irish  Presbyterians,  resolved  that  the  obiects 
ot  their  suspicion  should  live  no  longer.    At  this  time 
the  Moravian   converts   consisted  of  two  communities! 
those  of  Nam  and  Wecquetank,  near  the  Lehigh,  and  to 
these  may  be  added  a  third,  at  Wyalusing,  near  Wyom- 
nig.     I  he  latter,  from  its  distant  situation,  was,  for  the 
present,  safe ;  but  the  two  former  were  in  imminent  peril 
and  the  inhabitants,  in  mortal  terror  for  their  lives,  stood 
ctay  and  night  on  the  watch. 

At  length,  about  the  tenth  of  October,  a  gang  of  armed 
men  approached  Wecquetank,  and  encamped  in  the  woods 
at  no  great  distance.  They  intended  to  make  their  attack 
under  favor  of  the  darkness  ;  but  before  evening,  a  storm, 
which  to  the  missionaries  seemed  providential,  descended 
with  such  violence,  that  the  fires  of  the  hostile  camp  were 
extinguished  in  a  moment,  the  ammunition  of  the  men 
wet,  and  the  plan  defeated. 

After  so  narrow  an  escape,  it  was  apparent  that  flight 
was  the  only  resource.  The  terrified  congregation  of 
Wecquetank  broke  up  on  the  following  day,  and,  under 
the  charge  of  their  missionary,  Bernard  Grube,  removed 
to  the  Moravian  town  of  Nazareth,  where  it  was  hoped 
they  might  re.nain  in  safety. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  charges  against  the  Moravian 
converts  had  been  laid  before  the  provincial  Assembly, 
and,  to  secure  the  safety  of  the  frontier  people,  it  was 
judged  expedient  to  disarm  the  suspected  Indians,  and 
remove  them  to  a  part  of  the  province  where  ic 
would  be  beyond  their  power  to  do  mischief.  The 
motion  was  passed  in  the  Assembly  with  little  dissent, 


THE  MORAVIAN  CONVERTS. 


353 


the  Quakers  supporting  it  from  regard  to  the  safety 
of  the  Indians,  and  their  opponents  from  regard  to 
the  safety  of  the  whites.  The  order  for  removal 
reached  its  destination  on  the  sixth  of  November,  and 
the  Indians,  reluctantly  yielding  up  their  arms,  prepared 
for  departure.  When  a  sermon  had  been  preached  before 
the  united  congregations,  and  a  hymn  sung,  in  which 
all  took  part,  the  unfortunate  exiles  set  out  on  their  for- 
lorn pilgrimage ;  the  aged,  the  young,  the  sick,  and  the 
blind,  borne  in  wagons,  while  the  rest  journeyed  on  foot. 
Their  total  number,  including  the  band  from  Wyalusing, 
which  joined  them  lifter  they  reached  Philadelphia,  was 
about  a  hundred  and  forty.  At  every  village  and  hamlet 
which  they  passed  on  their  way,  they  were  greeted  with 
threats  and  curses ;  nor  did  the  temper  of  the  people  im- 
prove as  they  advanced,  for,  when  they  came  to  German- 
town,  the  mob  could  scarcely  be  restrained  from  attack- 
ing them.  On  reaching  Philadelphia,  they  were  con- 
ducted, amidst  the  yells  and  hootings  of  the  rabble,  to  the 
barracks,  which  had  been  intended  to  receive  them ;  but 
the  soldiers,  who  outdid  the  mob  in  their  hatred  of  In- 
dians, refused  to  admit  them,  and  set  the  orders  of  the 
governor  at  defiance.  From  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning 
until  three  in  the  afternoon,  the  persecuted  exiles  re- 
mained drawn  up  in  the  square,  before  the  barracks,  sur- 
rounded by  d  multitude  who  never  ceased  to  abuse  and 
threaten  them  ;  but  wherever  the  broad  hat  of  a  Quaker 
was  seen  in  the  crowd,  there  they  felt  the  assurance  of  a 
friend — a  friend,  who,  both  out  of  love  for  them,  and  aver- 
sion to  their  enemie?,  would  spare  no  efforts  in  their  be- 
half. The  soldiers  continued  refractory,  and  the  Indians 
were  at  length  ordered  to  proceed.  As  they  moved  down 
the  street,  shrinking  together  in  their  terror,  the  mob 
about  them  grew  so  angry  and  clamorous,  that  to  their 
missionaries  they  seemed  like  a  flock  of  sheep  in  the  midst 
of  howling  wolves.  A  body-guard  of  Quakers  gathered 
around,  protecting  them  from  the  crowd,  and  speaking 
words  of  sympathy  and  encouragement.  Thus  they  pro- 
23 


Hi 


354 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ceecled  to  Province  Island,  below  the  city,  where  they 
were  lodged  in  waste  buildings,  prepared  in  haste  for  their 
reception^  and  wnere  the  Quakers  still  attended  them, 
with  every  office  of  kindness  and  friendship. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THE    RIOTERS    MARCH    ON    PHILADELPHIA. 


The  Conestoga  murders  did  not  take  place  until  some 
weeks  after  the  removal  of  the  Moravian  converts  to 
Philadelphia,  and  the  rioters,  as  they  rode,  flushed  with 
success,  out  of  Lancaster,  after  the  achievement  of  their 
exploit,  wer'^.  heard  to  boast  that  they  would  soon  visit 
the  city  and  finish  their  work,  by  killing  the  Indians 
whom  it  had  taken  under  its  protection.  It  was  soon 
but  too  apparent  that  this  design  was  seriously  enter- 
tained by  the  people  of  the  frontier.  They  had  tasted 
blood,  and  they  craved  more.  It  seemed  to  them  intoler- 
able, that  while  their  sufferings  were  unheeded,  and  their 
wounded  and  destitute  friends  uncared  for  they  should 
be  taxed  to  support  those  whom  they  regarded  as  authors 
of  their  calamities,  or,  in  their  own  angry  words,  "to 
maintain  them  through  the  winter,  that  they  may  cidp 
and  butcher  us  in  the  spring."  In  their  blind  rage,  they 
would  not  see  that  the  Moravian  Indians  had  been  re- 
moved to  Philadelphia,  in  part,  at  least,  with  a  view  to 
the  s^  fety  of  the  borders.  To  their  enmity  against  In- 
diana was  added  a  resentment,  scarcely  less  vehemtut, 
against  tire  Quakers,  whose  sectarian  principl'  they 
hated  and  despised.  They  complained,  loo,  of  political 
grievances,  alleging  that  the  five  frontier  counties  were 
in<^dec;uately  represented  in  the  As?  -i^ibly,  and  tliat  from 
thencp;  arosL  the  undue  influence  of  the  Quakers  in  the 
councils  of  the  province. 

Tiie  excited  people  soon  began  to  assemble  it  taverns 
and  other  places  of  resort,  recountinfT  th^^ir  grievances, 
real   or  imaginary,  relating  frightful   stones   of  I  idian 

S55 


i'fllMS'-P^M'^ 


356 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


atrocities,   and    launching  fierce  invectives  against  the 
Quakers.     Political   agitators  harangued   them  on  their 
violated  rights,  self- constituted  preachers  urged  the  duty 
of  destroying  the  heathen,  forgetting  that  the  Moravian 
Indians  were  Christians,  and  their  exasperated  hearers 
were  soon  ripe  for  any  rash  attempt.     They  resolved  to 
assemble   and   march   inarms   to    Philadelphia.     On    -i 
former  occasion,  they  had  sent  thither  a  wagon  laden  with 
the  mangled  corpses  of  their  friends  and  relatives,  who 
had  fallen  by  Indian  butchery  ;  but  the  hideous  spectacle 
had  failed  of  the  intended  effect,  and  the  Assembly  had 
still  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  entreaties  for  more  effect- 
ive aid.*    Appeals  to  sympathy  had  been  thrown  away 
and  they  now  resolved  to  try  the  efficacy  of  their  rifles    ' 
They  mustered  under  their  popular  leaders,  prominent 
among  whom  was  Matthew  Smith,  who  had  led  the  mur- 
derers at  Conestoga,  and,  towards  the  end  of  January 
took   the  road  to  Philadelphia,   in  force  variously  esti- 
mated at  from  five  hundred  to  fifteen  hundred  men.     Their 
avowed  purpose  was  to  kill  the  Moravian  Indians ;  but 
what  vague  designs  they  may  have  entertained  to  change 
the  government,  and  eject  the  Quakers  from  a  share  in  it 
must  remain  a  matter  of  uncertainty.     Feeble  as  they 
were  in  numbers,  their  enterprise  was  not  so  hopeless  as 
might  at  first  appear,  for  they  counted  on  aid  from  the 
mob  of  the  city,  while  a  numerous  party,  comprising  the 
members  of  the  Presbyterian  sect,  were  expected  to  give 
them  secret  support,  or,  at  least,  to  stand  neutral  in  the 
quarrel.     The  Quakers,  who  were  their  most  determined 

*  This  incident  occurred  during  the  French  war,  and  is  thus 
described  by  a  Quaker  eye-witness  :  "  Some  of  the  dead  bodies 
were  brought  to  Philadelphia  in  a  wagon,  in  the  timeot  the  Gen- 
era Meeting  of  Friends  there  in  December,  with  intent  to  ani- 
mate the  people  to  unite  in  preparations  for  war  on  the  Indians. 
Ihey  were  carried  along  the  streets— many  people  foiJowing- 
cursing  tlie  Indians,  and  also  the  Quakers,  because  tliey  would 
not  jom  in  war  for  their  destruction.  The  sight  of  the  dead 
bodies,  and  the  outcry  of  the  people,  were  very  afflicting  and 
.    j_.        ...,„.,.,. .J  ii„,-,.tio  i.y  X  nil,  '±4y,  (irnn.  1880.) 


ALARM  OF  THE  QUAKERS. 


357 


enemies,  could  not  take  arms  against  them  without  glar- 
ing violation  of  the  principles  which  they  had  so  often 
and  loudly  professed ;  and  even  should  they  thus  fly  in 
the  face  of  conscience,  the  warlike  borderers  would  stand 
in  little  fear  of  such  unpractised  warriors.  They  pursued 
their  march  in  high  confidence,  applauded  by  the  inhab- 
itants, and  hourly  increasing  in  numbers. 

Startling  rumors  of  the  danger  soon  reached  Philadel- 
phia, spreading  alarm  among  the  citizens.  The  Quaker^ 
especially,  had  reason  to  fear,  both  for  themselves  and  f« 
the  Indians,  of  whom  it  was  their  pride  to  be  esteemer 
the  champions.  These  pacific  sectaries  found  themselves 
in  a  new  and  embarrassing  position,  for  hitherto  they  had 
been  able  to  assert  their  principles  at  no  great  risk  to 
person  or  property.  The  appalling  tempest,  which,  dur- 
ing the  French  war,  had  desolated  the  rest  of  the  prov- 
ince, had  been  unfelt  near  Philadelphia ;  and  while  the 
inhabitants  to  the  westward  had  been  slaughtered  by 
hundreds,  scarcely  a  Quaker  had  been  hurt.  Under  these 
circumstances,  the  aversion  of  the  sect  to  warlike  meas- 
ures had  been  a  fruitful  source  of  difficulty.  It  is  true 
that,  on  several  occasions,  they  had  voted  supplies  for  the 
public  defence ;  but  unwilling  to  place  on  record  such  a 
testimony  of  inconsistency,  they  had  granted  the  money, 
not  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  raising  and  arming  soldiers, 
but  under  the  title  of  a  gift  to  the  crown.  They  were 
now  to  be  deprived  of  even  this  poor  subterfuge,  and  sub- 
jected to  the  dilemma  of  suffering  their  friends  to  be  slain 
and  themselves  to  be  plundered,  or  openly  appealing  to 
arms. 

Their  embarrassment  Avas  increased  by  the  exaggerated 
idear,  which  prevailed  among  the  ignorant  and  timorous 
respecting  the  size  and  strength  of  the  borderers,  their 
ferocity  of  temper,  and  their  wonderful  skill  as  marks- 
men. Quiet  citizens,  whose  knowledge  was  confined  to 
the  narrow  limits  of  their  firesides  and  shops,  listened 
horror-stricken  to  these  reports,  the  prevalence  of  which 

o  bOiiic  VT  11a I;  auipi'smg,   v.  iicn  ii,  IS  coiiSiuuiUU  tUtii/,  cit  tUu 


lie 


mm 


758 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


M  r 


present  day,  the  district  whence  the  dreaded  rioters  came 
may  be  reached  from  Philadelphia  within  a  few  hours. 

Tidings  of  the  massacre  in  Lancaster  jail  had  arrived 
at  Philadelphia  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  December,  and 
with  them  came  the  rumor  that  numerous  armed  mobs 
were  already  on  their   march  to  the  city.     Terror  and 
confusion  were  universal ;  and,  as  the  place  was  defence- 
less, no  other  expedient  suggested  itself  than  the  pitiful  one 
of  removing  the  objects   of  popular  resentment   beyond 
reach  of  danger.     Boats  were  sent  to  Province  Island, 
and  the  Indians  ordered  to  embark  and  proceed  with  all 
haste  down  the  river  ;  but,  the  rumor  proving  groundless, 
a  messenger  was  despatched  to  recall  the  fugitives.     The 
assurance  that,  for  a  time  at  least,  the  city  was  safe,  re- 
stored some  measure  of  tranquillity  ;  but,  as  mtelligence 
of  an  alarming  kind  came  in  daily  from  the  country.  Gov- 
ernor Penn  sent  to  General  Gage  an  earnest  request  for  a 
detachment  of  regulars  to  repel  the  rioters ;  and,  in  the 
interval,   means   to  avert  the   threatened    danger  were 
eagerly  sought.     A  proposal  was  laid  before  the  Assembly 
to  embark  the  Indians  and  send  them  to  England ;  but 
the    scheme   was  judged  inexpedient,  and    another,  of 
equal  weakness,  adopted  in  its  place.     It  was  determined 
to  send  the  refugees  to  New  York,  and  place  them  under 
the  protection  of  the  Indian  superintendent.  Sir  William 
Johnson  ;  a  plan  as  hastily  executed  as  timidly  conceived. 
At  midnight,   on   the  fourth  of  January,   no  measures 
having  been  taken  to  gain  the  consent  of  either  the  gov- 
ernment of  New  York  or  Johnson  himself,  the  Indians 
were  ordered  to  leave  the  island,  and  proceed  to  the  city, 
where  they  arrived  a  little  before  daybreak,  passing  in 
mournful  procession,  thinly  clad  and  shivering  with  cold, 
through  the  silent  streets.     The  Moravian  Brethren  sup- 
plied them  with  food,  and  Fox,  the  commissary,  with 
great  humanity,  distributed  blankets  among  them.    Be- 
fore they  could  resume  their  progress,  the  city  was  astir ; 
and  as  the^y  passed  the  suburbs,  they  were  pelted  and 
hooted  at  by  the  mob.     Captain  Robertson's  Hiffhlanders. 


THE  CONVERTS  SENT  TO  NEW  YORK. 


359 


who  had  just  arrived  from  Lancaster,  were  ordered  to 
escort  them.  These  soldiers,  who  had  their  own  reasons 
for  hating  Indianp,  treated  them  at  first  with  no  less  inso- 
lence and  rude,  ^ss  than  the  populace ;  but  at  length, 
overcome  by  the  meekness  and  patience  of  the  sufferers, 
they  changed  their  conduct,  and  assumed  a  tone  of  sym- 
patliy  and  kindness. 

Thus  escorted,  the  refugees  pursued  their  dreary  prog- 
ress through  the  country,  greeted  on  all  sides  by  the 
threats  and  curses  of  the  people.  When  they  reached 
Trenton,  they  were  received  by  Apty,  the  commissary  at 
that  place,  under  whose  charge  tliey  continued  their 
journey  towards  Amboy,  where  several  small  vessels  had 
been  provided  to  carry  them  to  New  York.  Arriving  at 
Amboy,  however,  Apty,  to  his  great  surprise,  received  a 
letter  from  Governor  Golden  of  New  York,  forbidding 
him  to  bring  the  Indians  within  the  territories  of  that 
province.  A  second  letter,  from  General  Gage  to  Cap- 
tain Robertson,  conveyed  orders  to  prevent  their  ad- 
vance ;  and  a  third,  to  the  owners  of  the  vessels,  threatened 
heavy  penalties  if  they  should  bring  the  Indians  to  the 
city.*  The  charges  of  treachery  against  the  Moravian 
Indians,  the  burden  their  presence  would  occasion,  and 
the  danger  of  popular  disturbance,  were  the   chief  causes 

♦Extract  from  a  MS.  Letter — Thomas  Apty  to  Governor  Penn. 

Sir:— 

"  Agreeable  to  your  Honour's  orders,  I  passed  on  through  the 
Province  of  New  Jersey,  in  order  to  take  the  Indians 
under  my  care  into  New  York  ;  but  no  sooner  was  I  ready 
to  move  from  Amboy  with  the  Indians  under  my  care,  than  I 
was  greatly  surpriz'd  &  embarrass'd  with  express  orders  from 
the  Governor  of  New  York  sent  to  Amboy.  strictly  forbidding  the 
bringing  of  these  poor  ladians  into  his  Province,  and  charging 
all  his  ferrymen  not  to  let  them  pass.  I  have  wrote  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  this  Province,  acquainting  him  with  what  has  happened, 
&  begging  his  protection  for  the  Indians,  till  I  can  receive 
further  orders  from  your  Honour  ;  which  I  hope  to  receive  by  the 
return  of  the  express.  &  must  wait  here  with  the  Indians  under 
my  care,  till  your  Honour  shall  be  pleased  to  dispose  of  tliem  in 


aco 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


P 


which  induced  the  government  of  New  York  to  adopt 
this  course  ;  a  course  that  might  have  been  foreseen  from 
the  beginning. 

Thus  disappointed  in  their  hopes  of  escape,  the  hapless 
Indians  remained  several  days  lodged  in  the  barracks  of 
Amboy,  where  they  passed  much  of  their  time  in  religious 
services.  A  message,  however,  soon  came  from  the  Gov- 
ernor of  New  Jersey,  requiring  them  to  leave  that  prov- 
ince; and  they  were  compelled  reluctantly  to  retrace 
their  steps  to  Philadelphia.  A  detachment  of  a  hundred 
and  seventy  soldiers  had  arrived,  sent  by  General  Gage, 
in  compliance  with  the  request  of  Governor  Penn ;  and 
under  the  protection  of  these  troops,  the  exiles  began 
their  backward  journey.  On  the  twenty-fourth  of  Jan- 
uary, they  reached  Philadelphia,  where  they  were  lodged 
at  the  barrpks  within  the  city,  the  soldiers,  forgetful  of 
former  prejudice,  no  longer  refusing  them  entrance. 

The  return  of  the  Indians,  banishing  the  hope  of  repose 
with  which  the  citizens  had  flattered  themselves,  and  the 
tidings  of  danger  coming  in  quick  succession  from  the 
country,  made  it  apparent  that  no  time  must  be  lost ;  and 
the  Assembly,  laying  aside  their  scruples,  unanimously 
passed  a  bill  providing  means  for  the  public  defence. 
The  pacific  city  displayed  a  scene  of  unwonted  bustle. 
All  who  held  property,  or  regarded  the  public  order,  might, 
it  should  seem,  have  feit  a  deep  interest  in  the  issue  ;  yet 
a  numerous  and  highly  respectable  class  stood  idle  spec- 
tators, or  showed,  at  best,  but  a  lukewarm  zeal.  These 
Avere  the  Presbyterians,  who  had  naturally  felt  a  strong 
sympathy  with  their  suffering  brethren  of  the  frontier. 
To  this  they  added  a  deep  bitterness  against  the  Quakers, 
greatly  increased  by  a  charge,  most  uncharitably  brought 
by  the  latter  against  the  whole  Presbyterian  sect,  of  con- 
niving at  and  abetting  the  murders  at  Conestoga  and  Lan- 
caster. They  regarded  the  Paxton  men  as  the  victims 
of  Quaker  neglect  and  injustice,  and  showed  a  strong  dis- 
position to  palliate,  or  excuse  altogether,  the  violence  of 
which  they  had  been  guilty.     Many  of  them,  indeed,  were 


QUAKERS  AND  PRESBYTERIANS. 


361 


secretly  inclined  to  favor  the  desif?ns  of  the  advancing 
rioters  ;  hoping  that  by  their  means  the  public  grievances 
would  be  redressed,  the  Quaker  faction  put  down,  and 
the  social  and  political  balance  of  the  state  restored. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  sentiments  of  the  Presby- 
terians, and  of  the  city  mob,  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants 
bestirred  themselves  for  defence  with  all  the  alacrity  of 
fright.  The  Quakers  were  especially  conspicuous  for  their 
zeal.  Nothing  more  was  heard  of  the  duty  of  non-resist- 
ance. The  city  was  ransacked  for  arms,  and  the  As- 
sembly passed  a  vote,  extending  the  English  riot  act  to 
the  province,  the  Quaker  members  heartily  concurring  in 
the  measure.  Franklin,  whose  energy  and  practical  tal- 
ents made  his  services  invaluable,  was  the  moving  spirit 
of  the  day:  and  under  his  auspices,  the  citizens  were 
formed  into  military  companies,  six  of  which  were  of  in- 
fantry, one  of  artillery,  and  two  of  horse.  Besides  this 
force,  several  thousands  of  the  inhabitants,  including  many 
Quakers,  held  themselves  ready  to  appear  in  arms  at  a 
moment's  notice. 

These  preparations  were  yet  incomplete,  when,  on  the 
fourth  of  February,  couriers  came  in  with  the  an- 
nouncement that  the  Paxton  men,  horse  and  foot,  were 
already  within  a  short  distance  of  the  city.  Proclamation 
was  made  through  the  streets,  and  the  people  called  to 
arms.  A  mob  of  citizen  soldiers  repaired  in  great  excite- 
ment to  the  barracks,  where  the  Indians  were  lodged,  un- 
der protection  of  the  handful  of  regulars.  Here  the 
crowd  remained  all  night,  drenched  with  the  rain,  and  in 
a  dismal  condition. 

On  the  following  day,  Sunday,  a  barricade  was  thrown 
up  across  the  square  enclosed  by  the  barracks,  and  eight 
cannon,  to  which  four  more  were  afterwards  added,  were 
planted  to  sweep  the  adjacent  streets.  These  pieces  were 
discharged,  to  convey  to  the  rioters  an  idea  of  the  recep- 
tion prepared  for  them  ;  but  whatever  effect  the  explosion 
may  have  produced  on  the  ears  for  which  it  was  intended, 
the  new   and  appalUng    sounds  struck   the    Indians   in 


362 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


iMf 


;!  !■ 


the  barracks  with  speechless  terror.  While  the  city  as- 
eumed  this  martial  attitude,  its  rulers  thought  proper  to 
adopt  the  safer,  though  less  glorious  course  of  conciliation ; 
and  a  deputation  of  clergymen  was  sent  out  to  meet  the 
rioters,  and  pacify  them  by  reason  and  Scripture.  To- 
wards night,  as  all  remained  quiet,  and  nothing  was  heard 
from  the  enemy,  the  turmoil  began  to  subside,  the  citizen 
soldiers  dispersed,  the  regulars  withdrew  into  quarters, 
and  the  city  recovered  something  of  the  ordinary  repose 
of  a  Sabbath  evening. 

Through  the  early  part  of  the  night,  the  quiet  was  un- 
disturbed ;  but  at  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
clang  of  bells  and  the  rolling  of  drums  startled  the  people 
from  their  slumbers,  and  countless  voices  from  the  street 
echoed  the  alarm.  Immediately,  in  obedience  to  the  pre- 
vious day's  brders,  lighted  candles  were  placed  in  every 
window,  till  the  streets  seemed  illuminated  for  a  festival. 
The  citizen  soldiers,  with  more  zeal  than  regularity,  mus- 
tered under  their  officers.  The  governor,  dreading  an 
irruption  of  the  mob,  repaired  to  the  house  of  Franklin, 
and  the  city  was  filled  with  the  jangling  of  bells,  and  the 
no  less  vehement  clamor  of  tongues.  A  great  multitude 
gathered  before  the  barracks,  where  it  was  supposed 
the  attack  would  be  made ;  and  among  them  was  seen 
many  a  Quaker,  with  musket  in  hand.  Some  of  the  more 
rigid  of  the  sect,  unwilling  to  take  arms  with  their  less 
scrupulous  brethren,  went  into  the  barracks  to  console 
and  reassure  the  Indians ;  who,  however,  showed  much 
more  composure  than  their  comforters,  and  sat  waiting  the 
result  with  invincible  calmness.  Several  hours  of  suspense 
and  excitement  passed,  when  it  was  recollected,  that 
though  the  other  ferries  of  the  Schuylkill  had  been  secured, 
a  crossing  place,  known  as  the  Swedes'  Ford,  had  been 
left  open,  and  a  party  at  once  set  out  to  correct  this  un- 
lucky oversight.  Scarcely  were  they  gone,  when  a  cry 
rose  among  the  crowd  before  the  barracks,  and  a  general 
exclamation  was  heard  that  the  Paxton  Boys  were  coming. 
In  fact,  a  band  of  horsemen  was  seen  adYancin"*  up  Sec- 


:i  m 


PAXTON  MEN  AT  GERMANTOWN. 


863 


ond  Street.  The  people  crowded  to  get  out  of  the  way ; 
the  troops  fell  into  order ;  a  cannon  was  pointed  full  at 
the  liorsenien,  and  the  gunner  was  about  to  apply  the 
match,  when  a  man  ran  out  from  the  crowd,  and  covered 
the  tout'hhole  with  his  hat.  The  cry  of  a  false  alarm  was 
heard,  and  it  was  soon  apparent  to  all  that  the  supposed 
Paxton  Roys  were  a  troop  of  German  butchers  and  car- 
ters, who  had  come  to  aid  in  defence  of  the  city,  and  had 
nearly  paid  dear  for  their  patriotic  zeal. 

The  tumult  of  this  alarm  was  hardly  over,  when  a 
fresh  commotion  was  raised  by  the  return  of  the  men 
who  had  gone  to  secure  the  Swedes'  Ford,  and  who  now 
reported  that  they  had  been  too  late ;  that  the  rioters 
had  crossed  the  river,  and  were  already  at  Germantown. 
Those  who  had  crossed  proved  to  be  the  van  of  the  Pax- 
ton  men,  two  hundred  in  number,  and  commanded  by 
Matthew  Smith ;  who,  learning  what  welcome  was  pre- 
pared for  them,  thought  it  prudent  to  remain  quietly  at 
Germantown,  instead  of  marching  forward  to  certain 
destruction.  In  the  afternoon,  many  of  the  inhabitants 
gathered  courage,  and  went  out  to  visit  them.  They 
found  nothing  very  extraordinary  in  the  aspect  of  the 
rioters,  who,  in  the  words  of  a  writer  of  the  day,  were 
"a  set  of  fellows  in  blanket  coats  and  moccasons,  like 
our  Indian  traders  or  back  country  wagoners,  all  armed 
with  rifles  and  tomahawks,  and  some  with  pistols  stuck 
in  their  belts."  They  received  their  visitors  with  the 
courtesy  which  might  doubtless  be  ascribed  in  great 
measure  to  their  knowledge  of  the  warlike  preparations 
within  tlie  city ;  and  the  report  made  by  the  adventurers, 
on  their  return,  greatly  tended  to  allay  the  general  ex- 
citement. 

The  alarm,  however,  was  again  raised  on  the  following 
day,  and  the  cry  to  arms  once  more  resounded  through 
the  city  of  peace.  The  citizen  soldiers  mustered  with 
exemplary  despatch ;  but  their  ardor  was  quenched  by  a 
storm  of  rain,  which  drove  them  all  under  shelter.  A 
neighboring  Quaker  meeting-house  happened  to  be  open, 


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IMAGE  EVALUAYION 
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23  WES:  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y    14580 

(716)  872-4503 


'<*> 


:m^'-P-'^^^ 


364 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


and  a  company  of  the  volunteers  betook  themselves  in 
haste  to  this  convenient  asylum.  Forthwith,  the  place 
was  bristling  with  bayonets,  and  the  walls  which  had 
listened  so  often  to  angry  denunciations  against  war  now 
echoed  the  clang  of  weapons— an  unspeakable  scandal  to 
the  elders  of  the  sect,  and  an  occasion  of  pitiless  satire 
to  the  Presbyterians. 

This  alarm  proving  groundless,  like  all  the  others,  the 
governor  and  council  proceeded  to  the  execution  of  a  de- 
sign which  they  had  formed  the  day  before.     They  haa 
resolved,  in  pursuance  of  their  timid  policy,  to  open  nego- 
tiations with  the  rioters,  and  persuade  them,  if  possible 
to  depart  peacefully.     Many  of  the    citizens  protested 
against  the  plan,  and  the  soldiers  volunteered  to  attack 
the   Paxton   men;   but  none  were  so  vehement  as  the 
Quakers,  who  held  that  fire  and  steel  were  the  only  wel- 
come that  should  be  accorded  to  such  violaters  of  the 
public  peace,  and  audacious  blasphemers  of  the  society 
of  Friends.     The  plan  was  nevertheless  sustained,  and 
Franklm,  with  three  other  citizens  of  character  and  in- 
fluence, set  out  for  Germantown.     The  rioters  received 
them  with  marks  of  respect,  and,  after  a  long  conference, 
the  leaders  of  the  mob  w^ere  so  far  wrought  upon  as  to 
give  over  their  hostile  designs^  the  futility  of  which  was 
now  sufficiently  apparent.     An  assurance  was  given,  on 
the  part  of  the  government,  that  their  complaints  should 
have  a  hearing,  and  safety  was  guarantied  to  those  of 
their  number  who  should  enter  the  city  as  their  repre- 
sentatives and  advocates.     For  this  purpose,  Matthew 
Smith  and  James  Gibson  were  appointed  by  the  popular 
voice,  and  two  papers,  a  Declaration  and  a  Remonstrance, 
were  drawn  up,  addressed  to  the  governor  and  Assembly. 
With  this  assurance  that  their  cause  should  be  repre- 
sented, the  lioters  signified  their  willingness  to  return 
home,  glad  to  escape  so  easily  from  an  affair  which  had 
begun  to  threaten  worse  consequences. 

Towards  evening,  the  commissioners,  returning  to  the 
city,  reported  the  success  of  their  negotiations.     Upon 


TREATY  WITH  THE  RIOTERS. 


366 


tnis,  the  citizen  soldiers  were  convened  in  front  of  the 
court-house,  and  addressed  by  a  member  of  the  council. 
He  thanked  them  for  their  zeal,  and  assured  them  there 
was  no  farther  occasion  for  their  services,  since  the  Pax- 
ton  men,  tiiough  falsely  represented  as  enemies  of  govern- 
ment, were  in   fact  its  friends,  entertaining  no  worse 
rl>.  3ign  than  that  of  gaining  relief  t-o  their  sufferings,  with- 
out injury  to  the  city  or  its  inhabitants.     The  people, 
ill  satisfied  with  what  they  heard,  returned  in  no  placid 
temper  to  their  homes.     On  the  morrow,  the  good  effect 
of  the  treaty  was  apparent  in  a  general  opening  of  schools, 
shops,  and  warehouses,  and  a  return  to  the  usual  activity 
of  business,  which  had  been  wholly  suspended  for  some 
days.    The  security  was  not  of  long  duration.     Before 
noon,  an  uproar  more  tumultuous  than  ever,  a  cry  to 
arms,  and  a  general  exclamation  that  the  Paxton  Boys 
had  broken  the  treaty  and   were   entering  the    town, 
startled  the  indignant  citizens.     The  streets  were  filled 
in  an  instant  with  a  rabble  of  arm.sd  merchants  and  shop- 
men, who  for  once  were   fully  bent  on  slaughter,  and 
resolved  to  put  a  summary  end  to  the  long-protracted 
evil.     Quiet  was  again  restored,  when  it  was  found  that 
the  alarm  was  caused  by  about  thirty  of  the  frontiersmen, 
who,  with  singular  audacity,  were  riding  into  the  city  on 
a  visit  of  curiosity.    As  their  deportment  was  inoffensive, 
it  was  thought  unwise  to  molest  them.     Several  of  these 
visitors  had  oiienly  boasted  of  the  part  they  had  taken  in 
the  Conestofe.*,  murders,  and  a  Urge  reward  had  been 
offered  for  their  apprehension ;  yet  such  was  the  state  of 
factions  in  the  city,  and  such  the  dread  of  the  frontiers- 
men, that  no  man  dared  lay  hand  on  the  criminals.     The 
party  proceeded  to  the  barracks,  where  they  requested 
to  see  the  Indians,  declaring  that  they  could  point  out 
several  who  had  been  in  the  battle  against  Colonel  Bou- 
quet, or  engaged  in  other  acts  of  open  hostility.     The 
request  was  granted,  but  no  discovery  made.     Upon  this, 
it  was  rumored  abroad  that  the  Quakers  had  removed 
the  guilty  individuals  to  screen  them  from  just  punish- 


.r...pr'f 


366 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


ment ;  an  accusation  which,  for  a  time,  excited  much  ill 
blood  between  the  rival  factions. 

The  thirty  frontiersmen  withdrew  from  the  city,  and 
soon  followed  the  example  of  their  companions,  who  had 
begun  to  remove  homeward,  leaving  their  leaders.  Smith 
and  Gibson,  to  adjust  their  differences  with  the  govern- 
ment. Their  departure  gave  great  relief  to  the  people  of 
the  neighborhood,  to  whom  they  had,  at  times,  conducted 
themselves  after  a  fashion  somewhat  barbarous  and  un- 
civil, uttering  hideous  outcries,  in  imitation  of  the  war- 
whoop  ;  knocking  dov/n  peaceable  citizens,  and  pretend- 
ing to  scalp  them  ;  thrusting  their  guns  in  at  windows, 
and  committing  unheard-of  ravages  among  hen-roosts 
and  hog-pens. 

Though  the  city  was  now  safe  from  all  external  danger, 
contentions  sprang  up  within  its  precincts,  which,  though 
by  no  means  as  perilous,  were  not  less  clamorous  and 
angry  than  those  menaced  from  an  irruption  of  the 
rioters.*  The  rival  factions  turned  savagely  upon  each 
other,  while  the  more  philosophic  citizens  stood  laughing 
by,  and  ridiculed  them  both.    The  Presbyterians  grew 

*  "  Whether  the  Paxton  men  were  '  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning,'  was  a  question  which  was  agitated  with  so  much  ardor 
and  acrimony,  that  even  tlie  schoolboys  became  warmly  engaged 
in  the  contest.     For  my  own  part,  though  of  the  religious  sect 
which  had  been  long  warring  with  the  Quakers,  I  was  entirely 
on  the  side  of  humanity  and  public  duty,  (or  in  this  do  I  beg  the 
question?)  and  perfectly  recollect  my  indignation  at  the  senti- 
ments of  one  of  the  ushers  who  ,was  on  the  opposite  side.    His 
name  was  Davis,  and  he  was  really  a  kind,  good-natured  man  • 
yetfroTi  the  dominion  of  his  religious  or  political  prejudices,  he 
had  been  led  to  apologize  for,  if  not  to  approve  of  an  outrage 
which  was  a  disgrace  to  a  civilized  people.    He  had  been  among 
the  riflemen  on  their  coming  into  the  city,  and,  talking  with  them 
upon  the  subject  of  the  Lancaster  maesacre,  and  particularly  of 
the  killing  of  Will  Sock,  the  most  distinguished  of  the  victims, 
related  with  an  air  of  approbation,  this  rodomontade  of  the  real 
S^r..?'i^*^'^'*^^  murderer.     '  I,'  said  he,  '  am  the  man  who  killed 
Will  Sock— this  is  the  arm  that  stabbed  him  to  the  heart,  and  I 
glory  in  it.'  "—Memoirs  of  a  Life  chiefly  passed  in  Pennsylvania, 


MEMORIALS  OF  THE  PAXTON  MEN. 


36Y 


furious,  the  Quakers  dogged  and  spiteful.  Pamphlets, 
farces,  dialogues,  and  poems  came  forth  in  quick  succes- 
sion. These  sometimes  exhibited  a  few  traces  of  wit, 
and  even  of  reasoning ;  but  abuse  was  the  favorite  weap- 
on, and  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  of  the  combatants 
handled  it  with  the  greater  freedom  and  dexterity.  The 
Quakers  accused  the  Presbyterians  of  conniving  at  the 
act  of  murderers,  of  perverting  Scripture  for  their  de- 
fence, and  of  aiding  the  rioters  with  counsel  and  money, 
in  their  audacious  attempt  against  the  public  peace.  The 
Presbyterians,  on  their  part,  with  about  equal  justice, 
charged  the  Quakers  with  leaguing  themselves  with  the 
common  enemy,  and  exciting  them  to  war.  They  held 
up  to  scorn  tl.jse  accommodating  principles  which  denied 
the  aid  of  arms  to  suffering  fellow-countrymen,  but 
justified  their  use  at  the  first  call  of  self-interest.  The 
Quaker  warrior,  in  his  sober  garb  of  ostentatious  sim- 
plicity, his  prim  person  adorned  with  military  trappings, 
and  his  hands  grasping  a  musket  which  threatened  more 
peril  to  hhnself  than  to  his  enemy,  was  a  subject  of  ridi- 
cule too  tempting  to  be  overlooked. 

While  this  paper  warfare  was  raging  in  the  city,  the 
representatives  of  the  frontiersmen.  Smith  and  Gibson, 
had  laid  before  the  Assembly  the  memorial,  entitled  the 
Remonstrance  ;  and  to  this  a  second  paper,  styled  a  Dec- 
laration, was  soon  afterwards  added.  Various  grievances 
were  specified,  for  which  redress  was  demanded.  It  was 
urged  that  those  counties  where  the  Quaker  interest 
prevailed  sent  to  the  Assembly  more  than  their  due  share 
of  representatives.  The  memorialists  bitterly  complained 
of  a  law,  then  before  the  Assembly,  by  which  those 
charged  with  murdering  Indians  were  to  be  brought  to 
trial,  not  in  the  district  where  the  act  was  committed, 
but  in  one  of  the  three  eastern  counties.  They  represent- 
ed the  Moravian  converts  as  enemies  in  disguise,  and 
denounced  the  policy  which  yielded  them  protection  and 
support  while  the  sick  and  wounded  of  the  frontiers  were 
cruelly  abandoned  to  their  misery.    They  begged  that  a 


Ilk' : ; 


h1 


368 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


suitable  reward  might  be  offered  for  scalps,  since  the 
want  of  such  encouragement  had  «  damped  the  spirits  of 
many  brave  men."  Angry  invectives  against  the  Quakers 
succeeded.  To  the  «villany,  infatuation,  and  influence 
of  a  certam  faction,  that  have  got  the  political  reins  in 
their  hands,  and  tamely  tyrannize  over  the  other  good 
subjects  of  the  province,"  were  to  be  ascribed,  urged  the 
memorialists,  the  intolerable  evils  which  afflicted  the 
people.  The  Quakers,  they  insisted,  had  held  private 
treaties  with  the  Indians,  encouraged  them  to  hostile  acts 
and  excused  their  rTuelties  on  the  charitable  plea  that 
this  was  their  method  of  making  war. 

The  memorials  were  laid  before  a  committee,  who  rec 
ommended  tliat  a  public  conference  should  be  held  with 
Smith  and   Gibson,   to  consider   the  grounds   of  com- 
plaint.     To  this  the  governor,  in  view  of  the  illegal  posi- 
tion assutnpd  by  the  frontiersmen,   would  not  give  his 
consent,  an  assertion   of  dignity  that  would  have  done 
him  more  honor  had  he  made  it  when  the  rioters  were  in 
arms  before  the  city,  at  which  time  he  had  shown  an 
abundant  alacrity  to   negotiate.      It  was  intimated   to 
bmith  and  Gibson  that  they  might  leave  Philadelphia ; 
and  the  Assembly  soon  after  became  involved  in  its  pro 
tracted  quarrels  with  the  governor,  relative  to  the  grant- 
mg  of  supplies  for  the  service  of  the  ensuing  campaign 
Ihe  supply  bill  passed,  as  mentioned  in  a  former  chapter- 
and     e  consequent  military  preparations,  together  with 
a  tnreatened  renewal  of  the  war  on  the  part  of  the  enemv 
engrossed  the  minds  of  the  ^frontier  people,  and  caused 
the  excitements  of  the  winter  to  be  forgotten.    No  action 
on  the  two  memorials  was  ever  taken  by  the  Assembly 
and  the  memorable  Paxton  riots  had  no  other  definite' 
result  than  that  of  exposing  the  weakness  and  distraction 
ot  the  provincial   government,   and    demonstrating  the 
folly  and  absurdity  of  all  principles  of  non-resistance 

Yet  to  the  student  of  human  nature  these  events  supply 
abundant  food  for  reflection.  In  the  frontiersman,  goaded 
by  the  madness  of  his  misery,  to  deeds  more  horrible 


THE  MORAVIAN  CONVERTS. 


360 


than  those  by  which  he  suffered,  and  half  believing  that, 
in  the  perpetration  of  these  atrocities,  he  was  but  the 
minister  of  divine  vengeance;  in  the  Quaker,  absorbed 
by  one  narrow  philanthropy,  and  closing  his  ears  to  the 
outcries  of  his  wretched  countrymen ,  .n  the  Presbyterian, 
urged  by  party  spirit  and  sectarian  zeal  to  countenance 
the  crimes  of  rioters  and  murderers, — in  each  and  all  of 
these  lies  an  embodied  satire,  which  may  find  its  appli- 
cation in  every  age  of  the  world  and  every  condition  of 
society. 

The  Moravian  Indians,  the  occasion — and,  at  least,  as 
regards  most  of  them,  the  innocent  occasion — of  the  tu- 
mult, remained  for  a  full  year  in  the  barracks  of  Philadel- 
phia. There  they  endured  frightful  sufferings  from  the 
smallpox,  which  destroyed  more  than  a  third  of  their 
number.  After  the  conclusion  of  peace,  they  were  per- 
mitted to  depart,  and,  having  thanked  the  governor  for 
his  protection  and  care,  they  withdrew  to  the  banks  of 
the  Susquehanna,  where,  under  the  direction  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, they  once  more  formed  a  prosperous  settlement. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

bradstrekt's  army  on  the  lakes. 

The  campaign  of  17G3,  a  year  of  disaster  to  the  English 
colonies,  was  throughout  of  a  defensive  nature,  and  no 
important  blow  had  been  stru(!k  against  the  enemy.     With 
the  opening  of  the  following  spring,  preparations  were 
made  to  renew  the  war  on  a  more  decisive  plan.     Before 
the   commencement  of  hostilities,  Sir  William  Johnson 
and  his  deputy,  George  Croghan,  each  addressed  to  the 
lords  of  trade   a  memorial,  setting  forth  the  character 
temper,  and  resources  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  suggesting 
the  course  bf  conduct  which  they  judged  it  expedient  to 
pursue.     They  represented  that,  before  the  conquest  of 
Canada,  all  the  tribes,  jealous  of  French  encroachment, 
had  looked  to  the  English  to  befriend  and  protect  them] 
but  that  now  one  general  feeling  of  distrust  and  hatred 
filled  them  all.     They  added  that  the  neglect  and  injus- 
tice of  the  British  government,  the  outrages  of  ruffian 
borderers  and  debauched  traders,  and  the  insolence  of 
English  soldiers,  had  aggravated  this  feeling,  and  given 
double  effect  to  the  restless  machinations  of  the  defeated 
French,  who,  to  revenge  themselves  on  their  conquerors 
were  constantly  stirring  up,  the  Indians  to  war.    A  race 
so  brave  and  tenacious  of  liberty,  so  wild  and  erratic  in 
their  habits,  dwelling  in  a  country  so  savage  and  inacces- 
sible, could  not  be  exterminated  or  reduced  to  subjection 
without  an  immoderate  expenditure  of  men,  money,  and 
time.     The  true  policy  of  the  British  government  was 
therefore   to  conciliate;   to   soothe   their  jealous  pride, 
galled  by  injuries  and  insults ;  to  gratify  them  by  pres- 
ents, and  treat  them  with  a  respect  and  attention  to  which 
their  haughty  spirit  would  not  fail  to  respond.     We  ought, 
370 


MEMORIALS  ON  INDIAN  AFFAIRS. 


371 


they  said,  to  make  the  Indians  our  friends,  and,  by  a  just, 
consistent,  and  straightforward  course,  seek  to  gain  their 
esteem,  and  wean  them  from  their  partiality  to  the  French. 
To  remove  the  constant  irritation  which  arose  from  the 
intrusion  of  the  white  inhabitants  on  their  territory,  Cro- 
ghan  urged  the  expediency  of  purcliasing  a  large  tract  of 
land  to  the  westward  of  the  English  settlements ;  thus 
confining  the  tribes  to  remoter  hunting-grounds.  For  a 
moderate  sum,  the  Indians  would  part  with  as  much  land 
as  might  be  required.  A  little  more,  laid  out  in  annual 
presents,  would  keep  them  in  good  temper ;  and  by  judi- 
cious management,  all  hostile  collision  might  be  prevented, 
till,  by  the  extension  of  the  settlements,  it  should  become 
expedient  to  make  yet  another  purchase. 

This  plan  was  afterwards  carried  into  execution  by  the 
British  government.  Founded  as  it  is  upon  the  supposi- 
tion that  the  Indian  tribes  must  gradually  dwindle  and 
waste  away,  it  might  well  have  awakened  the  utmost  fears 
of  that  unhappy  people.  Yet  none  but  an  enthusiast  or 
fanatic  could  condemn  it  as  iniquitous.  To  reclaim  the 
Indians  from  their  savage  state  has  again  and  again  been 
attempted  and  eac' -  attempt  has  failed.  Their  intractable, 
unchanging  character  leaves  no  other  alternative  than 
their  gradual  extinction,  or  the  abandonment  of  the  west- 
ern world  to  eternal  barbarism ;  and  of  this  and  other 
similar  plans,  whether  the  offspring  of  British  or  Ameri- 
can legislation,  it  may  alike  be  said  that  sentimental  phi- 
lanthropy will  find  it  easier  to  cavil  at  than  to  amend 
them. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  merits  of  the  scheme  pro- 
posed to  the  lords  of  trade,  it  was  necessary,  before  at- 
tempting its  execution,  to  suppress  the  existing  outbreak 
— to  beat  the  Indians  into  submission,  and  bind  them  by 
treaties  as  firm  and  stringent  as  circumstances  would  ad- 
mit. With  this  view,  it  was  resolved  to  march  two  armies, 
from  different  points,  into  the  heart  of  the  Indian  country. 
The  command  of  the  first  was  given  to  Colonel  Bouquet, 
with  orders  to  advance  to  Fort  Pitt,  and  thence  to  pen- 


372 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


•if 


etrato  into  the  midst  of  the  Delaware  and  Shawanoe  set 
tlements.  The  other  army,  under  Colonel  Bradstreet,  was 
to  ascend  the  lakes,  and  force  the  tribes  of  Detroit  and 
the  regions  beyond  U)  unconditional  submission.  Tlie 
name  of  Bradstreet  was  already  well  known  in  Americta! 
At  a  dark  and  ill-ouiened  period  of  the  French  war,  lu> 
had  crossed  I^ke  Ontjirio  with  a  force  of  three  thousand 
provhicials,  and  captured  Fort  Frontenac,  a  formidabhi 
stronghold  of  the  French,  commanding  the  outlet  of  the 
lake.  He  had  distinguished  himself,  moreover,  by  his 
gallant  conduct  in  a  skirmish  with  the  French  and  Indians 
on  the  River  Oswego.  These  exploits  had  gained  for  him 
a  reputation  beyond  his  merits.  lie  was  a  man  of  more 
activity  than  judgment,  perverse,  self-willed,  vain,  and 
eager  for  notoriety ;  qualities  which  became  sufficiently 
apparent  before  the  end  of  the  campaign.* 

Several  df  the  northern  provinces  furnished  troops  for 
the  expedition ;  but  these  levies  did  not  arrive  until  after 
the  appointed  time,  and,  as  the  service  promised  neither 
honor  nor  advantage,  they  were  drawn  from  the  scum  and 
refuse  of  the  population,  looking  more  like  candidates  for 
a  hospital  than  like  men  fit  for  the  arduous  duty  before 
them.  The  rendezvous  of  the  troops  was  at  Albany,  and 
thence  they  took  their  departure  about  the  end  of  June. 
Adopting  the  usual  military  route  to  the  westward,  they 
passed  up  the  Mohawk,  crossed  the  Oneida  Lake,  and  de- 
scended the  swift  current  of  the  Oswego.  The  boats  and 
bateaux,  crowded  with  men,  passed  between  the  war  worn 

*  In  the  correspondence  of  General  Wolfe,  recently  published 
in  Tait's  Magazine,  this  distinguished  officer  speaks  in  high  terms 
of  Bradstreet's  military  character.  His  remarks,  however,  have 
reference  solely  to  the  capture  of  Fort  Frontenac  ;  and  he  seems 
to  have  derived  his;  impressions  from  the  public  prints,  as  he  had 
no  personal  knowledge  of  Bradstreet.  The  view  expressed  above 
IS  derived  from  the  letters  of  Bradstreet  himself,  from  tlie  corre- 
spondence of  General  Gage  and  Sir  William  Johnson,  and  from  a 
MS.  paper  containing  numerous  details  of  his  conduct  during  the 
campaign  of  1764,  and  drawn  up  by  the  officers  who  served  under 
him. 

This  paper  is  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  W.  L.  Stone. 


STRIKING  SPECTACLE. 


373 


defences  of  Oswego,  which  guarded  the  mouth  of  the  river 
on  either  hand,  and,  issuing  fortli  ui)on  Lake  Ontario^ 
steered  in  long  procession  over  its  restless  waters.  A 
violent  storm  threw  the  flotilla  into  confusion  ;  and  several 
days  elapsed  hefore  the  ramparts  of  Fort  >Jiagara  rosc;  in 
sight,  breaking  the  tedious  monotony  of  the  forest-covered 
shores.  The  troops  landeu  beneath  its  walls.  The  sur- 
rounding plains  were  soon  dotted  with  the  white  tents  of 
the  little  army,  whose  strength,  far  inferior  to  the  original 
design,  did  not  exceed  twelve  hundred  men. 

A  striking  spectacle  greeted  them  on  their  landing. 
Hundreds  of  Indian  cabins  were  clustered  along  the  skirts 
of  the  forest,  and  a  countless  multitude  of  savages,  in  all 
the  picturesque  variety  of  their  barbaric  costume,  were 
roaming  over  the  fields,  or  lounging  about  the  shores  of 
the  lake.  Towards  the  close  of  the  previous  winter.  Sir 
William  Johnson  had  despatched  Indian  messengers  to 
the  tribes  far  and  near,  warning  them  of  the  impending 
blow,  and  urging  all  who  were  friendly  to  the  English,  or 
disposed  to  make  peace  while  there  was  yet  time,  to  meet 
him  at  Niagara,  and  listen  to  his  words.  Throughout  the 
winter,  the  sufferings  of  the  Indians  had  been  great  and 
general.  The  suspension  of  the  fur-trade ;  the  consequent 
want  of  ammunition,  clothing,  and  other  articles  of  ne- 
cessity ;  the  failure  of  expected  aid  from  the  French ;  and, 
above  all,  the  knowledge  that  some  of  their  own  people  had 
taken  up  arms  for  the  English,  combined  to  quench  their 
thirst  for  war.  Johnson's  messengers  had  therefore  been 
received  with  unexpected  favor,  and  many  had  complied 
with  his  invitation.  Some  came  to  protest  their  friend- 
ship for  the  English ;  others  hoped,  by  an  early  submis- 
sion, to  atone  for  past  misconduct.  Some  came  as  spies ; 
while  others,  again,  were  lured  by  the  hope  of  receiving 
presents,  and  especially  a  draught  of  English  milk,  that 
is  to  say,  a  dram  of  whiskey. 

The  trader  Alexander  Henry,  the  same  who  so  narrowly 
escaped  the  massacre  at  Michillimaclcinac,  was  with  a 
party  of  Ojibwas  at  the  Sault  Ste.  Marie,  when  a  canoe, 

7 


jif 


374 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC, 


filled  with  warriors,  arrived,  bringing  the  message  of  Sir 
William  Johnson.  A  council  was  called,  and  the  principal 
measengia-,  offering  a  belt  of  wampum,  spoke  as  follows : 
"  My  friends  and  brothers,  I  am  come  with  this  belt  from 
our  great  fiither.  Sir  William  Johnson.  He  desired  mo 
to  come  to  you,  as  his  ambassador,  and  tell  you  tliat  lie 
is  making  a  great  feast  at  Fort  Niagara ;  that  his  kettles 
are  all  ready,  and  his  firet:  lighted.  He  invites  you  to 
partake  of  the  feast,  in  common  with  your  friends,  the 
Six  Nations,  wlio  have  all  made  peace  with  the  English. 
He  advises  you  to  seize  this  opportunity  of  doing  tiie 
same,  as  you  cannot  otherwise  fail  of  being  destroyed , 
for  the  English  are  on  thc'r  march  with  a  great  army| 
which  will  be  joined  by  different  nations  of  Indians.  In' 
a  word,  before  the  fall  of  the  leaf  they  will  be  at  Michilli- 
mackinac,  ^nd  the  Six  Nations  with  them." 

The  O  jib  was  had  Deen  debating  whether  they  should 
go  to  Detroit,  to  the  assistance  of  Pontiac,  who  had  just 
sent  them  a  message  to  tliat  effect ;  but  the  speech  of  John- 
son's  messenger  turned  the  current  of  their  thoughts. 
Most  of  them  were  in  favor  of  accepting  the  invitation ; 
but,  distrusting  mere  human  wisdom  in  a  crisis  so  impor- 
tant, they  resolved,  before  taking  a  decisive  step,  to  invoke 
the  superior  intelligence  of  the  Great  Turtle,  the  chief  of 
all  the  spirits.  A  huge  wigwam  was  erected,  capable  of 
containing  the  whole  population  of  the  little  village.  In 
the  centre,  a  sort  of  tabernacle  was  constructed  by  driving 
posts  into  the  ground,  and  closely  covering  them  with  hides. 
With  the  arrival  of  night,  the  propitious  time  for  consult- 
ing their  oracle,  all  the  warriors  assembled  in  the  spa- 
cious wigwam,  half  lighted  by  the  lurid  glare  of  fires,  and 
waited,  in  suspense  and  awe,  the  issue  of  the  invocation. 
The  medicine  man,  or  magician,  stripped  almost  naked, 
now  entered  the  central  tabernacle,  which  was  barely 
large  enough  to  receive  him,  and  carefully  closed  the  aper- 
ture. At  once  the  whole  structure  began  to  shake  with  a 
violence  wliich  threatened  its  demolition,  and  a  confusion 
of  horrible  sounds,  shrieks,  howls,  yells,  and  moans  of 


INDIAN  ORACLE. 


anguish,  mingled  wit.i  articulate  words,  sounded  .n  hide- 
ous discord  from  within.  This  outrageous  clamor,  which 
announced  to  tlie  horror-stricken  spectators  the  presence 
of  a  host  of  evil  spirits,  ceased  as  suddenly  ar^  ?t  had  legun. 
A  low,  feel)le  sound,  like  the  wliine  of  a  young  puppy,  was 
next  heard  within  the  recess;  upon  which  the  warriors 
raised  a  cry  of  joy,  and  hailed  it  as  the  voice  of  the  Great 
Turtle — the  spirit  who  never  lied.  The  magician  soon 
announced  that  tlie  spirit  was  ready  to  answer  any  ques- 
tion whicn  might  be  proposed.  On  this,  the  chief  warrior 
stepped  forward,  and,  having  propitiated  the  Great  Turtle 
by  a  present  of  tr'^acco  tlirust  through  a  small  hole  in  the 
tiibernacle,  inq\iired  if  the  English  were  in  reality  prepar- 
ing to  attack  a\e  Indians,  and  if  the  troops  were  already 
come  to  Niagara.  Once  more  the  tabernacle  was  violently 
shaken,  a  loud  yell  was  heard,  and  it  was  apparent  to  all 
that  the  spirit  was  gone.  A  pause  of  anxious  expectation 
ensued,  when,  after  the  lapse  of  a  quarter  oi  an  hour,  the 
weak,  puppy-like  voice  of  the  Great  Turtle  was  again 
heard  addressing  the  magician  in  a  language  unknown  to 
the  auditors.  When  the  spirit  ceased  speaking,  the  ma- 
gician interpreted  his  words.  During  the  short  interval 
of  his  departure,  he  had  crossed  Lake  Huron,  visited  Ni- 
agara, and  descended  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Montreal.  Few 
soldiers  had  as  yet  reached  Niagara ;  but  as  he  flew  down 
the  St.  Lawrence,  he  had  seen  the  water  covered  with 
boats,  all  filled  with  English  warriors,  coming  to  make 
war  on  the  Indians.  Having  obtained  this  answer  to  his 
first  question,  the  chief  ventured  to  propose  another,  and 
inquired  if  he  and  his  people,  should  they  accept  the  invi- 
tation of  Sir  William  Johnson,  would  be  well  received  at 
Niagara.  The  answer  was  most  satisfactory.  "  Sir  Wil- 
liam Johnson,"  said  the  spirit,  "  will  All  your  canoes  with 
presents ;  with  blankets,  kettles,  guns,  gunpowder  and 
shot,  and  large  barrels  of  rum,  such  as  the  stoutest  of  tue 
Indians  will  not  be  able  to  lift ;  and  every  man  will  return 
in  safety  to  his  family."  This  grateful  response  produced 
a  general  outburst  of  acclamations;  and  with  cries  of  joy, 


376 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


many  voices  were  heard  to  exclaim,  "  I  will  go  too  !    I 
will  go  too !  "  * 

They  Set  out,  accordingly,  for  Niagara ;  and  thither  also 
numerous  bands  of  warriors  were  tending,  urged  by  simi- 
lar messages,  and  encouraged,  it  may  be,  by  similar  re- 
sponses of  their  oracles.  Crossing  fresh- water  oceans  in 
their  birch  canoes,  and  threading  the  devious  windings  of 
solitary  streams,  they  came  flocking  to  the  common  centre 
of  attraction.  Such  a  concourse  of  savages  has  seldom 
been  seen  in  America.  Menomonies,  Ottawas,  Ojibwas, 
Mississaugas,  from  the  north,  C^aughnawagas  from  Canada' 
even  Wyandots  from  Detroit,  together  with  a  host  of  Iro- 
quois, were  congregated  round  Fort  Niagara  to  the  num- 
ber of  more  than  two  thousand  warriors,  many  of  whom 
had  brought  with  them  their  women  and  children,  f  Even 
the  Sacs,  the  Foxes,  and  the  Winnebagoes  had  sent  their 
deputies ;  and  the  Osages,  a  tribe  beyond  the  Mississippi, 
had  their  representative  in  this  general  meeting. 

*  Henry,  Travels  and  Adventures.  171. 

The  method  of  invoking  the  spirits,  described  above,  is  a  favor- 
ite species  of  imposture  among  the  medicine  men  of  most  Algon- 
quin tribes,  and  had  been  observed  and  described  a  century  and 
a  half  before  the  period  of  this  history.  C  amplain.  the  founder 
of  Canada,  witnessed  one  of  tliese  ceremonies ;  and  the  Jesuit 
Le  Jeune  gives  an  account  of  a  sorcerer,  who,  having  invoked  a 
spirit  in  this  manner,  treacherously  killed  him  with  a  hatchet, 
the  mysterious  visitant  having  assumed  a  visible  and  tangible 
form,  which  exposed  him  to  the  incidents  of  mortality.  During 
these  invocations,  the  lodge  or^  tabernacle  was  always  observed 
to  shake  violently  to  and  fro,  in  a  manner  so  remarkable  as  exceed- 
ingly to  perplex  the  observers.  The  variety  of  discordant  sounds, 
uttered  by  the  medicine  man,  need  not  surprise  us  more  than 
those  accurate  imitations  of  the  cries  of  various  animals,  to  which 
Indian  hunters  are  accustomed  to  train  their  strong  and  flexible 
voices. 

f  MS.  Johnson  Papers. 

The  following  extract  from  Henry's  Travels  will  exhibit  the 
feelings  with  which  the  Indians  came  to  the  conference  at  Ni- 
agara, besides  illustrating  a  curious  feature  of  their  superstitions. 
Many  n-ibes,  including  some  widely  differing  in  language  and 
habits,  regard  the  rattlesnake  with  superstitious  veneration,  look- 
ing upon  him  either  as  a  mauitou,  or  spirit,  or  as  a  creature  eu- 


INDIANS  AT  NIAGARA. 


37'i 


Though  the  assembled  multitude  consisted,  for  the 
most  part,  of  the  more  pacific  members  of  the  tribes  rep- 
resented, yet  their  friendly  disposition  was  by  no  means 
certain.     Several  straggling  soldiers  were  shot  at  in  the 

(lowed  with  mystic  powers  and  attributes,  giving  him  an  influence 
over  the  fortunes  of  mankind.  Henry  accompanied  his  Indian 
companions  to  Niagara,  and,  on  the  way,  he  chanced  to  discover 
one  of  these  snakes  near  their  encampment. 

"The  reptile  was  coiled,  and  its  head  raised  considerably  above 
its  body.  Had  I  advanced  another  step  fore  my  dis  overy,  I 
must  have  trodden  upon  it. 

*'  I  no  sooner  saw  the  snake,  than  I  hastened  to  the  canoe,  in 
order  to  procure  my  gun  ;  but  the  Indians,  observing  what  I  was 
doing,  inquired  the  occasion,  and,  being  informed,  begged  me  to 
desist.  At  the  same  time,  they  followed  me  to  the  spot,  with  their 
pipes  and  tobacco-pouches  in  their  hands.  On  returning,  I  found 
the  snake  still  coiled. 

"  The  Indians,  on  tlieir  part,  surrounded  it,  all  addressing  it  by 
turns,  and  calling  it  their  grandfather,  but  yet  keeping  at  some 
distance.  During  this  part  of  the  ceremony,  they  tilled  their 
pipes  ;  and  now  each  blew  the  smoke  toward  the  snake,  who,  as 
it  appeared  to  me,  really  received  it  with  pleasure.  In  a  word, 
after  remaining  coiled,  and  receiving  incense,  for  the  space  of 
half  an  hour,  ic  stretched  itself  along  the  ground,  in  visible  good 
humor.  Its  length  was  between  four  and  five  feet.  Having  re- 
mained outstretched  for  some  time,  at  last  it  moved  slowly  away 
the  Indians  following  it,  and  still  addressing  it  by  the  title  of 
grandfather,  beseeching  it  to  take  care  of  their  families  during 
their  absence,  and  to  be  pleased  to  open  the  heart  of  Sir  William 
Johnson,  so  that  he  might  show  them  charity,  and  fill  their  canoe 
with  rum. 

*'  One  of  the  chiefs  added  a  petition,  that  the  snake  would  take 
no  notice  of  the  insult  wliich  had  been  offered  him  by  the  Eng- 
lishman, who  would  even  have  put  him  to  death,  but  for  the  in- 
terference of  the  Indians,  to  whom  it  was  hoped  he  wonld  im- 
pute no  part  of  the  offence.  They  further  requested,  that  he 
would  remain,  and  not  return  among  the  English ;  that  is,  go 
eastward. 

"  After  the  rattlesnake  was  gone,  I  learned  that  this  was  the 
first  time  that  an  individual  of  the  species  had  been  seen  so  far 
to  the  northward  and  westward  of  the  River  Des  Frangais;  a 
circumstance,  moreover,  from  which  my  companions  were  dis- 
posed to  infer,  that  this  manito  had  come,  or  been  sent,  en  pur- 
pose to  meet  them ;  that  liis  errand  had  been  no  otlier  than  to 
stop  them  on  their  way  ;  and  that  consequently  it  would  be  most 


378 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


neighborhood,  and  it  soon  became  apparent  that  the  ut- 
most precaution  must  be  taken  to  avert  a  rupture.  The 
troops  were  kept  always  on  their  guard,  while  the  black 
muzzles  of  the  cannon,  thrust  forth  from  the  bastions  of 
the  fort,  struck  a  wholesome  awe  into  the  savage  throng 
below. 

Although  so  many  had  attended  the  meeting,  there 
were  still  numerous  tribes,  and  portions  of  tribes,  who 
maintained  a  rancorous,  unwavering  hostility.  The  Del- 
awares  and  Shawanoes,  however,  against  whom  I5ou(inet, 
with  the  army  of  the  south,  was  then  in  the  act  of  ad- 
advisable  to  return  to  the  point  of  departure.  I  was  so  fortunate, 
however,  as  to  prevail  with  them  to  embark  ;  and  at  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening  we  again  encamped. 

"  Early  the  next  morning  we  proceeded.  We  liad  a  serene  sky 
and  very  little  wind,  and  the  Indians  therefore  determined  on 
steering  acrbss  the  lake  to  an  island  which  just  appeared  in  the 
horizon  ;  saving,  by  this  course,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles,  which 
would  be  lost  in  keeping  the  shore.  At  nine  o'clock  A.  M.  we 
had  a»light  breeze,  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  which  we  hoisted  sail. 
Soon  after,  the  wind  increased,  and  Wie  Indians,  beginning  to  be 
alarmed,  frequently  called  on  the  rattlesnake  to  come  to  their  as- 
sistance. By  degrees  the  waves  grew  high  ;  and  at  eleven  o'clock 
it  blew  a  hurricane,  and  we  expected  every  moment  to  be  swal- 
lowed up.  From  prayers,  the  Indians  now  proceeded  to  sacri- 
fices, both  alike  offered  to  the  god-rattlesnake,  or  manito-kinibic. 
One  of  the  chiefs  took  a  dog,  and  after  tying  its  fore  legs  together, 
threw  it  overboard.at  the  same  time  calling  on  the  snake  to  preserve 
us  from  being  drowned,  and  desiring  him  to  satisfy  his  hunger 
with  the  carcass  of  the  dog.  The  snake  was  unpropitious,  ami 
the  wind  increased.  Another  chief  sacrificed  another  dog,  witli 
the  addition  of  some  tobacco.  In  the  prayer  which  accompanied 
these  gifts,  he  besonght  the  snake,  as  before,  not  to  avenge  npoii 
the  Indians  the  insult  which  he  had  received  from  myself,  in  tlie 
conception  of  a  design  to  put  him  to  death.  He  assured  the 
snake  that  I  was  absolutely  an  Englishman,  and  of  kin  neither 
to  him  nor  to  them. 

"  At  the  conclusion  of  this  speech,  an  Indian,  who  sat  near  me, 
observed,  that  if  we  were  drowned  it  would  be  for  my  fault  alone, 
that  I  ought  myself  to  be  sacrificed,  to  appease  the  angry  manito; 
nor  was  I  without  apprehensions  that,  in  case  of  extremity,  this 
would  be  my  fate  ;  but,  happily  for  me,  the  storm  at  length 
abated,  and  we  reached  the  island  safely."— II -^nry.  Travels,  175. 


OTTAWAS  AND  MENOMONIES. 


379 


vancing,  sent  a  message  to  the  effect,  that,  though  they 
had  no  fear  of  the  English,  though  they  regarded  them 
as  old  women,  and  held  them  in  contempt,  yet,  out  of  pity 
for  their  sufferings,  they  were  willing  to  treat  of  peace. 
To  this  haughty  missive  Johnson  made  no  answer ;  and 
indeed,  those  who  sent  it  were,  at  this  very  time,  rene^v- 
ing  the  bloody  work  of  the  previous  year  along  the  bor- 
ders of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia.  The  Senec^s,  that 
numerous  and  warlike  people,  to  whose  savage  enmity 
were  to  be  ascribed  the  massacre  at  the  Devil's  Hole,  and 
other  disasters  of  the  last  summer,  had  recently  made  a 
preliminary  treaty  with  Sir  William  Johnson,  and  at  the 
same  time  pledged  themselves  to  appear  at  Niagara  to 
ratify  and  complete  it.  They  broke  their  promise,  and  it 
soon  became  known  that  they  had  leagued  themselves 
with  a  large  band  of  hostile  Delawares,  who  had  visited 
their  country.  Upon  this,  a  messenger  was  sent  to  them, 
threatening  that,  unless  they  instantly  came  to  Niagara, 
the  English  would  marcli  upon  them  and  burn  their  vil- 
lages. The  menace  had  full  effect,  and  a  large  body  of 
these  formidable  warriors  appeared  at  the  English  camp, 
bringing  fourteen  prisoners,  besides  several  deserters  and 
runaway  slaves.  A  peace  was  concluded,  on  condition 
that  they  should  never  again  attack  the  English,  and 
that  they  should  cede  to  the  British  crown  a  strip  of 
land,  between  the  Lakes  Erie  and  Ontario,  four  miles  in 
width,  on  either  side  of  the  River,  or  Strait,  of  Niagara. 
A  treaty  was  next  made  with  a  deputation  of  Wyandots 
from  Detroit,  on  condition  of  the  delivery  of  prisoners, 
and  the  preservation  of  friendship  for  the  future. 

Councils  were  next  held,  in  turn,  with  each  of  the  vari- 
ous  tribes  assembled  round  the  fort,  some  of  whom 
craved  forgiveness  for  the  hostile  acts  they  had  committed, 
and  deprecated  the  vengeance  of  the  English;  while 
others  alleged  their  innocence,  urged  their  extreme  wants 
and  necessities,  and  begged  that  English  traders  might 

" •^-  "^^  "ii^j vr cvi   HI   \isi\j  Ziiviu.     iiiu  couiiuu-room 


I      ! 
1     t 


*  I'  fh 


•i   :  J'  :ui;j,il 


in  the  fort  was  crowded  from  morning  till  night ;  and 


mn^^n 


380 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  wearisome  formalities  of  such  occasions,  the  speeches 
made  and  replied  to,  and  the  final  shaking  of  hands, 
smoking  of  pipes,  and  serving  out  of  whisky,  engrossed 
the  time  of  the  superintendent  for  many  successive  days. 

Among  the  Indians  present  were  a  band  of  Ottawas 
from  Michillimuckinac,  and  remoter  settlements,  beyond 
Lake  Michigan,  and  a  band  of  Menomonies  from  Green 
Bay.  The  former,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  done  good 
service  to  the  English,  bv  rescuing  the  survivors  of  the 
garrison  of  Michillimackinac  from  the  clutches  of  the 
Ojibwas;  and  the  latter  had  deserved  no  less  at  their 
hands,  by  the  protection  they  had  extended  to  Lieutenant 
Gorell,  and  the  garrison  at  Green  Bay.  Conscious  of 
their  merits,  they  had  come  to  Niagara  in  full  confidence 
of  a  favorable  reception.  Nor  were  they  disappointed ; 
for  Johnson  met  them  with  a  cordial  welcome,  and 
greeted  them  as  friends  and  brothers.  They,  on  their 
part,  were  not  wanting  in  expressions  of  pleasure ;  and 
one  of  their  orators  exclaimed,  in  the  figurative  language 
of  his  people,  "  When  our  brother  came  to  meet  us,  the 
storms  ceased,  the  lake  became  smooth,  and  the  whole 
face  of  nature  was  changed." 

They  disowned  all  connection  or  privity  with  the  de- 
signs of  Pontiac.  "Brother,"  said  one  of  the  Ottawa 
chiefs,  "  you  must  not  imagine  I  am  acquainted  with  the 
cause  of  the  war.  I  only  heard  a  little  bird  whistle  an 
account  of  it,  and,  on  going  to  Michillimackinac,  I 
found  your  people  killed  ;*  upon  which  I  sent  our  priest 
to  inquire  into  the  matl-er.  On  the  priest's  return,  he 
brought  me  no  favorable  account,  but  a  war-hatchet  from 
Pontiac,  which  I  scarcely  looked  on,  and  immediately 
threw  away." 

Another  of  the  Ottawas,  a  chief  of  the  remoter  band 
of  Lake  Michigan,  spoke  to  a  similar  effect,  as  follows : 
"  We  are  not  of  the  same  people  as  those  residing  about 
Michillimackinac ;  we  only  heard  at  a  distance  that  the 
enemv  were  killino*  vnnr  soldiers  on  which  we  covered 
our  heads,  and  I  resolved  not  to  suffer  my  people  to 


BRADSTREET  LEAVES  NIAGARA. 


381 


engage  in  the  war.  I  gathered  them  together,  and  made 
them  sit  stilL  In  the  spring,  on  uncovering  my  head,  I 
perceived  that  they  had  again  begun  a  war,  and  that  the 
sky  was  all  cloudy  in  that  quarter." 

The  superintendent  thanked  them  for  their  fidelity  to 
the  English,  reminded  them  that  their  true  interest  lay 
in  the  preservation  of  peace,  and  concluded  with  a  gift  of 
food  and  clothing,  and  a  permission,  denied  to  all  the 
rest,  to  open  a  traffic  with  the  traders,  who  had  already 
begun  to  assemble  at  the  fort.  "  And  now,  my  brother," 
said  a  warrior,  as  the  council  was  about  to  break  up,  "  we 
beg  that  you  will  tell  us  where  we  can  find  some  rum  to 
comfort  us,  for  it  is  long  since  we  have  tasted  any,  and 
we  are  very  thirsty."  This  honest  request  was  not  re- 
fused. The  liquor  was  distributed,  and  a  more  copious 
supply  promised  for  the  future ;  upon  which  the  deputa- 
tion departed,  and  repaired  to  their  encampment,  much 
pleased  with  their  reception. 

Throughout  these  conferences,  one  point  of  policy  was 
constantly  adhered  to.  No  general  council  was  held. 
Separate  treaties  were  made  with  each  individual  band,  in 
order  to  promote  their  mutual  jealousies  and  rivalries, 
and  discourage  the  feeling  of  union,  and  of  a  common 
cause  among  the  widely-scattered  tribes.  Johnson  at 
length  completed  his  task,  and,  on  the  sixth  of  August, 
set  sail  for  Oswego.  The  march  of  the  army  had  hitherto 
been  delayed  by  rumors  of  hostile  designs  on  the  part  of 
the  Indians,  who,  it  was  said,  had  formed  a  scheme  for 
attacking  Fort  Niagara,  as  soon  as  the  troops  should  have 
left  the  ground.  Now,  however,  when  the  concourse  was 
melting  away,  and  the  tribes  departing  for  their  distant 
homes,  it  was  thought  that  the  danger  was  past,  and  that 
the  army  might  safely  resume  its  progress.  They  ad- 
vanced, accordingly,  to  Fort  Schlosser,  above  the  cataract 
whither  their  boats  and  bateaux  had  been  sent  before 
them,  craned  up  the  rocks  at  Lewiston,  and  dragged  by 
oxen  over  the  rough  portage  road.  The  troops  had  been 
jomed  by  three  hundred  friendly  Indians,  and  an  equal 


j'iti 


EtjOklJIli  if] 


p.' )■:■;« 


382 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


number  of  Canadians.    The  appearance  of  the  latter  in 
arms  would,  it  was  thought,  have  great  effect  on   the 
mmds  of  the  enemy,  who  had  always  looked  upon  them  as 
friends  and  supporters.     Of  the  Indian  allies,  the  greater 
part  were  Iroquois,  and  the  remainder,  about  a  hundred 
m  number,  Ojibwas  and  Mississaugas ;  the  former  being 
the  same  who  had  recently  arrived  from  the  Sault  Ste 
Marie,  bringing    with   them   their  prisoner,   Alexander 
Henry.     Henry  was  easily  persuaded  to  accompany  the 
expedition,  and  the  command  of  the  Ojibwas  and  Missis- 
saugas was  assigned  to  him—"  To  me,"  writes  the  adven- 
turous  trader,  «  whose  best  hope  it  had  lately  been  to  live 
by  their  forbearance."    His  long-continued  sufferings  and 
dangers  hardly  deserved  to  be  rewarded  by  so  great  a  mis- 
fortune as  that  of  commanding  a  body  of  Indian  warriors ; 
an  evil  from  which,  however,    he  soon  to  be  relieved! 
The  army  had  hardly  begun  its  march,  when  nearly  all 
his  followers  ran  oft',  judging  it  wiser  to  return  home 
with  the  arms  and  clothing  given  them  for  the  expedition 
than  to  make  war  against  their  own  countrymen  and  rel- 
atives.    Fourteen  warriors  still  remained ;  but  on  the  fol- 
lowing night,  when  the  army  lay  at  Fort  Schlosser,  hav- 
ing contrived  by  some  means  to  obtain  liquor,  they  created 
such  a  commotion  in  the  camp  by  yelling  and  firing  their 
guns  as  to  excite  the  utmost  indignation  of  the  commander. 
They  received  from  him,  in  consequence,  a  reproof  so  harsh 
and  ill  judged,  that  most  of  them  went  home  in  disgust, 
and  Henry  fo  md  his  Indian*  battalion  suddenly  dwindled 
to  four  or  five  vagabond  hunters.    A  large  number  of 
Iroquois  still  followed  the  army,  the  strength  of  which, 
farther  increased  by  a  reenforcement  of  Highlanders,  was 
now  very  considerable. 

The  troops  left  Fort  Schlosser  on  the  eighth.  Their 
boats  and  bateaux  pushed  out  into  the  Niagara,  whose  ex- 
panded  waters  reposed  in  a  serenity  soon  to  be  exchanged 
for  the  wild  roar  and  tumultuous  struggle  of  the  rapids 
and  the  cataract.  Thpv  constpd  nlnncr  fh(^  ar,^^i■h^^r^  oVi/^t^o 
of  Lake  Erie  until  the  twelfth,  when,  in  the  neighbor- 


PRETENDED  EMBASSY. 


383 


hood  of  Presqu'Isle,  they  were  overtaken  by  a  storm  of 
rain,  which  forced  them  to  drag  their  boats  on  shore,  and 
pitch  their  tents  in  the  dripping  forest.  Before  the  day 
closed,  word  was  brought  that  strange  Indians  were  near 
the  camp.  They  soon  made  their  appearance,  proclaiming 
themselves  to  be  chiefs  and  deputies  of  the  Delawares  and 
Shawanoes,  empowered  to  beg  for  peace  in  the  name  of 
their  respective  tribes.  Various  opinions  were  entertained 
of  the  visitors.  The  Indian  allies  wished  to  kill  them, 
and  many  of  the  officers  believed  them  to  be  spies.  There 
was  no  proof  of  their  pretended  character  of  deputies,  and 
for  all  that  appeared  to  the  contrary,  they  might  be  a 
mere  straggling  party  of  warriors.  Their  professions  of 
an  earnest  desire  for  peace  were  contradicted  by  the  fact 
they  brought  with  them  but  one  small  belt  of  wampum, 
a  pledge  no  less  indispensable  in  a  treaty  with  these  tribes 
than  seals  and  signatures  in  a  convention  of  European 
sovereigns.*  Bradstreet  knew,  or  ought  to  have  known, 
the  character  of  the  treacherous  enemy  with  whom  he 
had  to  deal.  He  knew  that  the  Shawanoes  and  Delawares 
had  shown,  throughout  the  war,  a  ferocious  and  relentless 
hostility  ;  that  they  had  sent  an  insolent  message 'to  Niag- 
ara ;  and  finally,  that  in  his  own  instructions  he  was  en- 
joined to  deal  sternly  with  them,  and  not  be  duped  by  pre- 
tended overtures.  Yet,  in  spite  of  the  suspicious  charac- 
ter of  the  self-styled  deputies,  in  spite  of  the  sullen  wrath 
of  his  Indian  allies  and  the  murmured  dissent  of  his  offi- 
cers, he  listened  to  their  proposals,  and  entered  into  a 
preliminary  treaty.  He  pledged  himself  to  refrain  from 
attacking  the  Delawares  and  Shawanoes,  on  condition 
that  within  twenty-five  days  the  deputies  should  again 

*  Every  article  in  a  treaty  must  be  confirmed  by  a  belt  of  wam- 
pum ;  otherwise  it  is  void.  Mante,  the  historian  of  the  French 
war,  asserts  that  they  brought  four  belts.  But  this  is  contra- 
dicted in  contemporary  letters,  including  several  of  General  Gage 
and  Sir  William  Johnson.  Mante  accompanied  Bradstreet's  ex- 
pedition with  the  rank  of  major,  and  he  is  a  zealous  advocate  of 
iiis  commander,  whom  he  seeks  to  defend,  at  the  expense  of  both 
Colonel  Bouquet  and  General  Gage. 


I 


384 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


meet  him  at  Sandusky,  in  order  to  yield  up  their  prisoners 
and  conclude  a  definitive  treaty  of  peace.  It  afterwards 
appeared^and  this,  indeed,  might  have  been  suspected 
at  the  time— that  the  sole  object  of  the  overtures  was  to 
retard  the  action  of  the  army  until  the  season  should  be 
too  far  advanced  to  prosecute  the  campaign.  At  this  very 
moment,  the  Delaware  and  Shawanoe  war-parties  were 
murdering  and  scalping  along  the  frontiers ;  and  the  work 
of  havoc  continued  for  weeks,  until  it  was  checked  at 
length  by  the  operations  of  Colonel  Bouquet. 

Bradstreet  was  not  satisfied  with  the  promise  he  had 
made  to  abandon  his  own  hostile  designs.  He  consummated 
his  folly  and  presumption  by  despatching  a  messenger  to 
his  superior  officer,  Colonel  Bouquet,  informing  him  that 
the  Delawares  and  Shawanoes  had  been  reduced  to  sub- 
mission without  his  aid,  and  that  he  might  withdraw  his 
troops,  as  there  was  no  need  of  his  advancing  farther 
Bouquet,  astonished  and  indignant,  paid  no  attention  to 
this  communication,  but  pursued  his  march  as  before 

The  course  pursued  by  Bradstreet  in  this  affair- a 
course  which  can  only  be  ascribed  to  the  vain  ambition 
ot  finishing  the  war  without  the  aid  of  others— drew  upon 
him  the  severe  censures  of  the  commander-in-chief,  who 
on  hearing  of  the  treaty,  at  once  annulled  it.*  Brad-' 
street  has  been  accused  of  having  exceeded  his  orders  in 
promising  to  conclude  a  definitive  treaty  with  the  In- 
dians, a  power  which  was  vested  in  Sir  William  Johnson 

*  MS.  Letter— Gage  to  Bradstreet,  Oct.  15. 
"  They  have  negotiated  vvitli  you  on  Lake  Erie,  and  cut  our 
throats  upon   the   frontiers.     With  your  letters  of  peace  I  re- 

ffnn!f.H^''';-^''''"?x^S''"""*'^^  murders,  and  these  acts  con- 
tinue to  this  time.  Had  you  only  consulted  Colonel  Bouquet,  be- 
fore you  agreed  upon  any  thing  witli  them,  (a  deference  he  was 
certainly  entitled  to,  instead  of  an  order  to  stop  his  march,)  you 
would  have  been  acquainted  with  the  treachery  of  those  people, 
and  not  have  suffered  yourself  to  be  thus  deceived,  and  yoii 
would  have  saved  both  Colonel  Bouquet  and  myself  from  the 

,      „, -_  — i-uj3f... -i^i.^^o.     i  uu«juiiuiudea  a peacvi  With  people 

who  were  daily  murdering  us." 


BRADSTREET  AT  DETROIT. 


385 


alone ;  but  as  upon  this  point  his  instructions  were  not 
explicit,  he  may  be  spared  the  full  weight  of  this  addi- 
tional charge.  ' 

Having,  as  he  thought,  accomplished  not  only  a  great 
part  of  his  own  task,  but  also  the  whole  of  that  which 
had  been  assigned  to  Colonel  Bouquet,  Bradstreet  resumed 
his  progress  westward,  and  in  a  few  days  reached  San- 
dusky. He  had  been  ordered  to  attack  the  Wyandots, 
Ottawas,  and  Miamis,  dwelling  near  this  place ;  but  at  his 
approach,  these  Indians,  hastening  tc  avert  the  danger, 
sent  a  deputation  to  meet  him,  promising  that,  if  he  would 
refrain  from  attacking  them,  they  would  follow  him  to 
Detroit,  and  there  conclude  a  treaty.  Bradstreet  thought 
proper  to  trust  this  slippery  promise,  though,  with  little 
loss  of  time,  he  might  have  reduced  them,  on  the  spot,  to 
a  much  more  effectual  submission,  lie  now  bent  his 
course  for  Detroit,  leaving  the  Indians  of  Sandusky  much 
delighted,  and  probably  no  less  surprised,  at  the  success 
of  their  embassy.  Before  his  departure,  however,  he  de- 
spatched Captain  Morris,  with  several  Canadians  and 
friendly  Indians,  to  the  Illinois,  in  order  to  persuade  the 
savages  of  that  region  to  treat  of  peace  with  the  English. 
The  measure  was  in  a  high  degree  ill  advised  and  rash, 
promising  but  doubtful  advantage,  and  exposing  the  life 
of  a  valuable  officer  to  imminent  risk.  The  sequel  of 
Morris's  adventure  will  soon  appear. 

The  English  boats  now  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
Detroit,  and  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  August  came  within 
sight  of  the  fort  and  adjacent  settlements.  The  in- 
habitants of  the  Wyandot  village  on  the  right,  who,  it 
will  be  remembered,  had  recently  made  a  treaty  oi'  peace 
at  Niagara,  ran  down  to  the  shore,  snouting,  whooping, 
and  firing  their  guns, — a  greeting  more  noisy  than  sin- 
cere,— while  the  cannon  of  the  garrison  echoed  salutation 
from  the  opposite  shore,  and  cheer  on  cheer,  deep  and 
heartfelt,  pealed  welcome  from  the  crowded  ramparts. 

Well  might  Gladwyn's  beleaguered  soldiers  rejoice  at 
the  appToaching  succor.  They  had  been  beset  for  more 
25 


386 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


than  fifteen  months  by  their  wily  enemy,  and   thougli 
there  were  times  when  not  an  Indian  could  be  seen,  yet 
woe  to  the  soldier  who  should  wander  into  the  forest  in 
search  of  game,  or  stroll  too  far  beyond  range  of  the  can- 
non.    Throughout  the  preceding  winter,  they  had  been 
left  in  comparative  quiet ;  but  with  the  opening  spring, 
the   Indians  had  resumed  their  pertinacious  hostilities; 
not,  however,  with  the  same  activity  and  vigor  as  during 
the   preceding  summer.     The   messages  of  Sir  William 
Johnson,  and  the  tidings  of  Bradstreet's  intended  expedi- 
tion, had  had  great  effect  upon  their  minds,  and  some  of 
them  were  inclined  to  sue  for  peace ;  but  still  the  garrison 
were  harassed  by  frequent  alarms,  and  days  and  nights 
of  watchfulness  were  their  unvarying  lot.      Cut  off  for 
months  together  from  all  communication  with  their  race, 
pent  up  in' an  irksome  imprisonment,  ill  supplied  with 
provisions,  and  with  clothing  worn  threadbare,  they  hailed 
with  delight  the  prospect  of  a  return  to  the  world  from 
which  they  had  been  banished  so  long.    The  army  had 
no  sooner  landed  than  the  garrison  was  relieved,  and  fresh 
troops  substituted  in  their  place.     Bradstreet's  next  care 
was  to  inquire  into  the  conduct  of  the  Canadian  inhabit- 
ants of  Detroit,  and  punish  such  of  them  as  had  given  aid 
to  the   Indians.     A  few  only    were   found  guilty,  the 
more  culpable  having  fled  to  the  Illinois  on  the  approach 
of  the  army. 

Pontiac  too  was  gone.  The  great  war-chief,  his  venge- 
ance unslaked,  and  his  purpose  unshaken,  had  retired 
before  an  overwhelming  force,  and,  with  the  more  resolute 
and  warlike  of  his  followers,  withdrawn  to  the  banks  of 
the  Maumee,  whence  he  sent  a  haughty  defiance  to  the 
English  commander.  The  Indian  villages  near  Detroit 
were  half  emptied  of  their  inhabitants,  many  of  whom 
still  followed  the  desperate  fortunes  of  their  indomitable 
leader.  Those  who  remained  were,  for  the  most  part, 
sincerely  desirous  of  peace;  for  the  war  had  involved 
tx^em  m  great  distress,  by  catting  off  the  fur- trade,  and 
thus  depriving  them  of  the  supplies  which  habit  had 


TERMS  OF  THE  TREATY. 


387 


made  essential  to  their  support.  They  therefore  readily- 
obeyed  the  summons  of  Bradstreet  to  meet  him  in 
council. 

The  council  was  held  in  the  open  air,  on  the  morning 
of  the  seventh  of  September,  with  all  the  accompaniments 
of  milita.  y  display  which  could  inspire  awe  and  respect 
among  the  assembled  savages.  The  tribes,  or  rather 
fragments  of  tribes,  represented  at  this  meeting,  were  the 
Ottawas,  Ojibwas,  Pottawattamies,  Miamis,  Sacs,  and 
Wyandots.  The  Indians  of  Sandusky  kept  imperfectly 
the  promise  they  had  made,  the  Wyandots  of  that  place 
alone  sending  a  full  deputation,  while  the  other  tribes 
were  merely  represented  by  the  Ojibwa  chief  Wasson. 
This  man,  who  was  the  principal  chief  of  his  tribe,  and 
the  most  prominent  orator  on  the  present  occasion,  rose 
and  opened  the  council. 

«  My  brother,"  he  said,  addressing  Bradstreet,  « last  year 
God  forsook  us.  God  has  now  opened  our  eyes,  and  we 
desire  to  be  heard.  It  is  God's  will  our  hearts  are  altered. 
It  was  God's  will  you  had  such  fine  weather  to  come  to 
us.  It  is  God's  will  also  there  should  be  peace  and 
tranquillity  over  the  face  of  the  earth  and  of  the  waters." 

Having  delivered  this  eloquent  exordium,  Wasson 
frankly  confessed  that  the  tribes  which  he  represented 
were  all  justly  chargeable  with  the  war,  and  now  deeply 
regretted  their  delinquency.  It  is  common  with  Indians, 
when  accused  of  acts  of  violence,  to  lay  the  blame  upon 
the  unbridled  recklessness  of  their  young  warriors  ;  and 
this  excuse  is  often  perfectly  sound  and  valid  ;  but  since, 
in  the  case  of  a  premeditated  and  long-continued  war,  it 
was  glaringly  inadmissible,  they  now  reversed  the  usual 
course,  and  made  scapegoats  of  the  old  chiefs  and  war- 
riors, who,  as  they  declared,  had  led  the  people  astray 
by  sinister  counsel  and  bad  example. 

Bradstreet  would  grant  peace  only  on  condition  that 
they  should  become  subjects  of  the  King  of  England,  and 
acknowledge  that  he  held  over  their  country  a  sovereignty 
as  ample  and  complete  as  over  any  other  part  of  his 


*i 


III 


388 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


dominions.  Nothing  eoukl  hv.  more  impolitic;  smd  a]).sur(l 
tluin  this  (lenijind.  The  smallest  attempt  at  an  invasion 
of  their  liberties  has  always  been  regarded  by  the  Indians 
with  extreme  jealousy,  and  a  [)rominent  eause  of  the  war 
liad  l^een  an  unduii  assumption  of  authority  on  the  part 
of  the  English.  This  article  of  the  treaty,  eould  its  pur- 
port have  been  fully  understood,  might  have  kindU-d 
afresh  the  quarnd  which  it  rought  to  extinguish ;  but 
hapi)ily  not  a  savage  pi  jsent  was  able  to  eomprehend  it. 
Subjection  and  sovereignty  are  ideas  wHdi  never  enter 
into  the  mind  of  an  Indian,  and  therefore  his  hmguage 
has  no  words  to  express  them.  Most  of  the  western 
tribes,  it  is  true,  had  been  accustomed  to  call  themselves 
children  of  the  King  of  F'rance ;  bu.  the  words  were  a 
mere  compliment,  conveying  no  sense  of  any  political 
relation  whatever.  Yet  it  was  solely  by  means  of  this 
harudess  metnphor  that  the  condition  in  question  could 
be  explained  to  the  assembled  chiefs.  Thus  interpreted, 
it  met  with  a  ready  assent,  since,  in  their  eyes,  it  involved 
no  concession  beyond  a  mere  unmeaning  change  of  forms 
and  words.  They  promised,  in  future,  to  call  the  Eng- 
lish king  father,  instead  of  brother,  unconscious  of  any 
obligation  which  so  trifling  a  change  could  impose,  and 
mentally  reserving  a  full  right  to  make  war  on  him  or 
his  people,  whenever  it  should  suit  their  convenience. 
When  Bradstreet  returned  from  his  expedition,  he  boasted 
thai  he  had  reduced  the  tribes  of  Detroit  to  terms  of  more 
complete  submission  than  any  other  Indians  had  ever 
before  yielded;  but  tho  truth  was  soon  detected  and 
exposed  ly  those  conversant  with  Indian  affairs. 

At  this  council,  Bradstreet  was  guilty  of  the  bad  policy 
and  bad  taste  of  speaking  through  the  medium  of  a  French 
interpreter ;  so  that  most  of  his  own  officers,  as  well  as 
the  Iroquois  allies,  who  were  strangers  to  the  Algonquin 
language,  remained  in  ignorance  of  all  that  passed.  The 
latter  were  highly  indignant,  and  refused  to  become  par- 
ties to  the  treaty,  or  go  through  the  usual  ceremony  of 
baking  hands  with  the  chiefs  of  Detroit,  insist  ing  that 


EMBASSY  OF  MORRIS. 


I; 
380 


they  had  not  heard  their  speeches,  aud  knew  not  whether 
they  were  friends  or  enemies.  In  another  particular, 
also,  Bradstreet  gave  great  offen«\3.  From  some  unex- 
plained impuls(i  or  motive,  he  cut  to  i)ieces,  with  a  hatchet, 
a  belt  of  wampum  which  was  about  to  be  used  in  the 
council ;  and  all  the  Indians  present,  both  friends  and 
enemies,  /ere  alike  incensed  at  this  rude  violation  of  the 
ancient  pledge  of  faith,  which,  in  their  eyes,  was  invested 
with  something  of  a  sacred  character. 

Having  settled  the  affairs  of  Detroit,  Bradstreet  de- 
spatched Captain  Howard,  with  a  strong  detachment,  to 
ttike  possession  of  Michillimackinac,  which  had  remained 
unoccupied  since  its  capture  on  the  previous  summer. 
Howard  effected  his  object  without  resistance,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  sent  parties  of  troops  to  reoccupy  the  deserted 
posts  of  Green  Bay  and  Sault  Ste.  Marie.  Thus,  after 
the  interval  of  more  than  a  year,  the  flag  of  England  was 
again  displayed  among  the  solitudes  of  the  northern 
wilderness. 

While  Bradstreet's  army  lay  encamped  on  the  fields 
near  Detroit,  Captain  Morris,  with  a  few  Iroquois  and 
Canadian  attendants,  was  pursuing  his  adventurous  em- 
bassy to  the  country  of  the  Illinois.  Ascending  the 
Maumee  in  a  canoe,  he  soon  approached  the  camp  of 
Pontiac,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  had  withdrawn  to  the 
banks  of  this  river,  with  his  chosen  warriors.  While  yet 
at  some  distance,  Morris  and  his  party  were  met  by  about 
two  hundred  Indians,  who  treated  him  with  great  violence 
and  rudeness,  while  they  offered  a  friendly  welcome  to 
the  Iroquois  and  Canadians.  Attended  by  this  clamorous 
escort,  they  all  moved  together  towards  the  camp.  At 
its  outskirts  stood  Pontiac  himself.  He  met  the  ambas- 
sador with  a  scowling  brow,  and  refused  to  offer  his  hand. 
"  The  English  are  liars,"  was  his  first  fierce  salutation. 
He  then  displayed  a  letter  addressed  to  himself,  and  pur- 
porting to  have  been  written  by  the  King  of  France, 
containing-  as  Morris  declares  the  orossest  calumnies 
which  the  most  ingenious  malice  could  devise,  to  incense 


#i:^K.M%_ 


390 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


the  Indians  against  the  English.    The  old  falsehood  was 
not  forgotten.     «  Your  French  father,"  said  the  writer, 
"is  neither  dead  nor  asleep;  he  i-  already  on  his  way,' 
with  sixty  great  ships,  to  revenge  ."  jmself  on  the  English, 
and  drive  them  out  of  America."    The  letter  was  written 
by  a  French  officer,  or  more  probably  a  French  fur-trader, 
who,  for  his  own  profit,  wished  to  inflame  the  passions  of 
the  Indians,  and  thus  bar  the  way  against  English  com- 
petitors.    If  Bradstreet,   before   leaving  Sandusky,  had 
forced  the  Indians  of  that  place  to  submission,  he  would 
have  inspired  such  an  awe  and  respect  among  the  tribes 
of  the  whole  adjacent  region,  that  Morris  might  have 
been  assured  of  safety  and  good  treatment,  even  in  the 
camp  of  Pontiac.     As  it  was,  the  knowledge  that  so  many 
of  their  relatives   were  in  the  power  of  the  army  at 
Detroit  restrained   the  Ottawa  warriors  from  personal 
violence;  and,  having  plundered  the  whole  party  of  every 
thing  except  their  arms,  their  clothing,  and  their  canoe 
they  suffered  them  to  depart.  ' 

Leaving  the  unfriendly  camp,  they  urged  their  way, 
with  poles  and  paddles,  against  the  rippling  current  of 
the  Maumee,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh  day 
reached  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Miami.  This  post 
captured  during  the  preceding  year,  had  since  remained 
without  a  garrison ;  and  its  only  tenants  were  the  Cana- 
dians,  who  had  built  their  houses  within  its  palisades 
and  a  few  Indians,  who  thought  fit  to  make  it  their  tem- 
porary abode.  The  meadows.about  the  fort  were  dotted 
with  the  lodges  of  the  Kickapoos,  a  large  band  of  whom 
had  recently  arrived ;  but  the  great  Miami  village  was 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream,  screened  from  sight 
by  the  forest  which  intervened. 

Morris  brought  his  canoe  to  land  at  a  short  distance  be- 
low the  fort,  and  while  his  attendants  were  making  their 
way  through  the  belt  of  woods  which  skirted  the  river, 
he  himself  remained  behind  to  complete  some  necessary 

arrancempnts.     Tt  waa  fnrfnnci+i^  fv.r.j-  i.^  j;j i?...  i  . 

C3 --  •   .-.  ■  «iiu.i,~^    viiai,  iic  uiu  ay,  iur  ins 

attendants  had  scarcely  reached  the  open  meadow,  which 


EMBASSY  OF  MORRIS.  39'i 

lay  behind  the  woods,  when  they  were  encountered  by  a 
mob  of  savages,  armed  with  spears,  hatchets,  and  bows 
and  arrows,  and  bent  on  killing  the  Englishman.  Being, 
for  the  moment,  unable  to  find  him,  the  chiefs  had  time 
to  address  the  excited  rabble,  and  persuade  them  to  post- 
pone their  intended  vengeance.  The  ambassador,  buf- 
feted, threatened,  and  insulted,  was  conducted  to  the  fort, 
where  he  was  ordered  to  remain,  though,  at  the  same 
time,  the  Canadian  inhabitants  were  forbidden  to  admit 
him  into  their  houses.  Morris  soon  discovered  that  th's 
rough  .treatment  was,  in  a  great  measure,  owing  to  the  in- 
fluence of  a  deputation  of  Delaware  and  Shawanoe  chiefs, 
who  had  recently  arrived,  bringing  fourteen  war-belts 
of  wampum,  and  exciting  the  Miamis  to  renew  their  hos- 
tilities agrmst  the  common  enemy.  Thus  it  was  fully 
apparent  that  while  the  Dela wares  and  Shawanoes  were 
sending  one  deputation  to  treat  of  peace  with  Bradstreet 
on  Lake  Erie,  they  were  sending  another  to  rouse  the 
tribes  of  the  Illinois  to  war.  From  Fort  Miami,  the  dep- 
utation had  proceeded  westward,  spreading  the  contagion 
among  all  the  tribes  between  the  Mississippi  and  the 
Ohio,  declaring  that  they  would  never  make  peace  with 
the  English,  but  would  fight  them  as  long  as  the  sun 
should  shine,  and  calling  on  their  brethren  of  the  Illinois 
to  follow  their  example. 

Morris  had  not  remained  long  at  the  fort,  when  two 
Miami  warriors  entered,  who,  seizing  him  by  the  arms, 
and  threatening  him  with  a  raised  tomahawk,  forced  him 
out  of  the  gate,  and  led  him  to  the  bank  of  the  river.  As 
they  drew  him  into  the  water,  the  conviction  flashed  across 
his  mind  that  they  intended  to  drown  him  and  then  take 
his  scalp ;  but  he  soon  saw  his  mistake,  for  they  led  him 
across  the  stream,  which  at  this  season  was  fordable,  and 
thence  towards  the  great  Miami  villagp.  When  they  ap- 
proached the  lodges,  they  stopped  ana  ogan  to  strip  him, 
but  grew  angry  at  the  difficulty  of  the  task.    In  rage  and 


LWic    wri    Ills    UiiiiOrm. 


The  warriors 


Hi  lilt 


bound  his  arms  behind  him  with  his  own  sash,  and  drove 


SI 


392 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


him  before  them  into  the  village.    Instantly,  from  all  tlio 
lodges,  the   savages  ran  out   to   receive  their  prisoner, 
clustering  about  him  like  a  swarm  of  angry  bees,  and  ut- 
tering their  discordant  death-yells — sounds  compared  to 
which  the  nocturnal  bowlings  of  stjirved  wolves  are  gentle 
and  melodious.     The  grt^iter  nundjer  were  eager  to  kill 
him ;  but  there  was  a  division  of  opinion,  and  a  clamorous 
debate  ensued.     Two  of  his  Canadian  attendants,  Gode- 
froy  and  St.  Vincent,  had  followed  him  to  the  village,  and 
now  ventured  to  interpose  with  the  cliiefs  in  his  behalf. 
Among  the  latter  was  a  nephew  of  Pontiac,  a  youi^g  man, 
who,  tliough  not  yet  arrived  at  maturity,  shared  the  bold 
spirit  of  his  heroic  kinsman.     He  harangued  the  tumult- 
nous  crowd,  declaring  that  he  would  not  see  one  of  the 
English  put  to  death,  when  so  many  of  his  own  relatives 
were  in  tl^eir  hands  at  Detroit.     A  Miami  chief,  named 
the  Swan,  also  took  part  with  the  prisoner,  and  cut  loose 
his  bonds  ;  but  Morris  had  no  sooner  begun  to  speak  in  his 
own   behalf,  than  another  chief,  called   the  White  Cat, 
seized  him,  and  bound  him  fast  by  the  neck  to  a  post. 
Upon  this,  Pontiac's  nephew  rode  up  on  horseback,  severed 
the  cord  with  his  hatchet,  and  released  the  unfoi  tuntite 
man.     "  I  give  this  Englishman  his  life,"  exclaimed  the 
daring  boy.     "  If  you  want  English  meat,  go  to  Detroit  or 
to  the  lake,  and  you  will  find  enough  of  it.     What  busi- 
ness have  you  with  this  man,  who  has  conie  to  speak  with 
us  ?  "     The  current  of  feeling  among  the  throng  now  be- 
gan to  change  ;  and,  having  vented  their  hatred  and  spite 
by  a  profusion  of  words  and  blows,  they  at  length  thrust 
the  ambassador  with  violence  out  of  the  village.     He  suc- 
ceeded in  regaining  the  fort,  although,  on  the  way,  he  was 
met  by  one  of  the  Indians,  who  beat  his  naked  body  with 
a  stick. 

He  found  the  Canadian  inhabitants  of  die  fort  disposed 
to  befriend  him,  as  far  as  they  could  do  so  without  danger 
to  themselves;  but  his  situation  was  still  extremely  crit- 
ical.      Thfi  two  ■wnrrmre    inrhrkhnH  lorl  h\rr\   an-rr^aa  i-ha  r>\\Tov 

were  constantly  lurking  about,  watching  an  opportunity 


[-f 


INACTION  OF  BRADSTREET. 


393 


to  kill  him ;  and  the  Kickapoos,  whose  lodges  were  pitched 
on  the  meadow,  sent  him  a  message  to  the  effect,  that  if 
the  Miamis  did  not  put  him  to  death,  they  themselves 
would  do  so,  whenever  he  should  pass  their  camp.    He 
was  still  on  the   threshold  of  his  journey,  and  his  final 
point  of  destination  was  several  hundred  miles  distant ; 
yet,  with  great  resolution,  he  determined   to  persevere,' 
and,  if  possible,  completely  fulfil  his  mission.     His  Indian 
and  Canadian  attendants  used  every  means  to  dissuade 
liim,  and  in  the  evening  held  a  council  with  the  Miami 
chiefs,    the   result  of    which    was    most    discouraging. 
Morris  received  message  after  message,  threatening  his 
life  should  he  persist  in  his  design ;  and  word  was  brought 
him  that  several  of  the  Shawanoe  deputies  were  returning 
to  the  fort,  expressly  to  kill  him.     Under  these  circum- 
stances, it  would  have  been  madness  to  persevere ;  and, 
reluctantly  abandoning  his  purpose,  he  retraced  his' steps 
towards  Detroit,  where  he  arrived  on  the  seventeenth  of 
September,  fully  expecting  to  find  Bradstreet  still  en- 
camped in  the  neighborhood.     But  that  agile  commander 
had  returned  to  Sandusky,  whither  Morris,  completely  ex- 
hausted by  hardships  anu  sufferings,  was  unable  to  follow 
him.     He  hastened,  however,  to  send  Bradstreet  the  jour- 
nal of  his  unfortunate  embassy,  accompanied  by  a  letter, 
in  which  he  inveighed,  in  no  very  gentle  terms,  against 
the  authors  of  his  misfortunes.* 

Bradstreet  had  retraced  his  course  to  Sandusky,  to  keep 
his  engagement  with  the  Delaware  and  Shawanoe  deputies, 
and  await  the  fulfilment  of  their  worthless  promise  to 
surrender  their  prisoners,  and  conclude  a  definitive  treaty 
of  peace.     His  hopes  were  destined  to  be  defeated.     The 

*  MS.  Letter— Morris  to  Bradstreet,  Sept.  18. 

"The  villains  have  nipped  our  fairest  hopes  in  the  bud.  I 
tremble  for  you  at  Sandusky  ;  though  I  was  greatly  pleased  to 
hnd  you  have  one  of  the  vessels  with  you,  and  artillery.  I  wish 
ti.e  chiefs  were  assembled  on  board  the  vessel,  and  that  she  had 

a  hole  in  hor  hoffntvi       Ti^oo^v.^^.,  ~i u  i.  -        •»       ...    . 

^.^^iv.„cij  aiiuuiii  uti  paia  witn treachery  : 

and  It  IS  a  more  than  ordinary  pleasure  to  deceive  those  who 
would  deceive  us. 


I 


394 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


appointed  time  expired,  and  not  a  chief  was  seen,  though, 
a  few  days  after,  several  warriors  came  to  the  camp,  with 
a  promise  that,  if  Bradstreet  would  remain  quiet,  and  re- 
frain from  attacking  their  villages,  they  would  bring  in 
the  prisoners  in  the  course  of  the  following  week  Brad- 
street  accepted  their  excuses,  and,  having  removed  his 
camp  to  the  carrying-place  of  Sandusky,  lay  waiting  in 
patient  expectation.  It  was  here  that  he  received,  for  tht3 
the  first  time,  a  communication  from  General  Gage,  re- 
specting the  preliminary  treaty,  concluded  several  weeks 
before.  Gage  condemned  his  conduct  in  severe  terms, 
and  ordered  him  to  break  the  engagements  he  had  made, 
and  advance  at  once  upon  the  enemy,  choosing  for  his 
first  objects  of  attack  the  Indians  living  upon  the  plains 
of  the  Scioto.  The  fury  of  Bradstreet  was  great  on  re- 
ceiving this  message,  and  it  was  not  diminished  when  the 
journal  of  Captain  Morris  was  placed  in  his  hands,  fully 
proving  how  signally  he  had  been  duped.  He  was  in  no 
temper  to  obey  the  orders  of  the  commander-in-chief; 
and,  to  justify  himself  for  his  inaction,  he  alleged  the  im- 
possibility of  reaching  the  Scioto  plains  at  that  advanced 
season.  Two  routes  thither  were  open  to  his  choice,  one 
by  the  River  Sandusky,  and  the  other  by  the  Cayahoga 
Creek.  The  water  in  the  Sandusky  was  sunk  low  with 
the  drought,  and  the  carrying-place  at  the  head  of  Caya- 
hoga Creek  was  a  few  miles  longer  than  had  been  rep- 
resented ;  yet  the  army  were  ready  for  the  attempt,  and 
these  difficulties  could  not, have  deterred  a  vigorous  com- 
mander. Under  cover  of  such  excuses,  Bradstreet  re- 
mained idle  at  Sandusky  for  several  days,  while  sickness 
and  discontent  were  rife  in  his  camp.  The  soldiers  com- 
plained of  his  capricious,  peremptory  temper,  his  harsh- 
ness to  his  troops,  and  the  unaccountable  tenderness  with 
which  he  treated  the  Sandusky  Indians,  some  of  whom 
had  not  yet  made  their  submission,  while  he  enraged  his 
Iroquois  allies  by  his  frequent  rebukes  and  curses. 

At  lenerth.  declarinc  that  nro visions  wprpi  fnilinoranr!  the 
season  growing  late,  he  resolved  to  return  home,  and  broke 


RESULTS  OF  THE  EXPEDITION. 


395 


INllll 


up  his  camp  with  such  precipitancy  tliat  several  soldiers, 
who  had  gone  out  in  the  morning  to  procure  game  for  the 
officers,  were  inhumanly  left  behind.  The  boats  of  the 
army  had  scarcely  entered  Lake  Erie,  when  a  storm 
descended  upon  them,  destroying  several,  and  throwing 
the  whole  into  confusion.  For  three  days  the  tempest 
raged  unceasingly;  and  when  the  angry  lake  began  to 
resume  its  tranquillity,  it  was  found  that  the  remaining 
boats  were  insufficient  to  convey  the  troops.  A  large 
body  of  Indians,  together  with  a  detachment  of  provincials, 
were  therefore  ordered  to  make  th^ir  way  to  Niagara 
along  the  pathless  borders  of  the  lake.  They  accordingly 
set  out,  and,  after  many  days  of  hardship,  reached  their 
destination ;  though  such  had  been  their  sufferings,  from 
fatigue,  cold,  and  hunger,  from  wading  swamps,  swimming 
creeks  and  rivers,  and  pushing  their  way  through  tangled 
thickets,  that  many  of  the  provincials  perished  miserably 
in  the  woods.  On  the  fourth  of  November,  seventeen 
days  after  their  departure  from  Sandusky,  the  main  body 
of  the  little  army  arrived  in  safety  at  Niagara,  and  the 
whole,  reembarking  on  Lake  Ontario,  proceeded  towards 
Oswego.  Fortune  still  seemed  adverse ;  for  a  second 
tempest  arose,  and  one  of  the  schooners,  crowded  with 
troops,  foundered  in  sight  of  Oswego,  though  most  of  the 
men  were  saved.  The  route  to  the  settlements  was  now 
a  short  and  easy  one.  On  their  arrival,  the  regulars 
went  into  quarters,  while  the  troops  levied  for  the  cam- 
paign were  sent  home  to  their  respective  provinces. 

This  expedition,  ill  conducted  as  it  was,  produced  some 
beneficial  results.  The  Indians  at  Detroit  had  been 
brought  to  reason,  and  for  the  present,  at  least,  would 
probably  remain  tranquil ;  while  the  reestablishment  of 
the  posts  on  the  upper  lakes  must  necessarily  have  great 
effect  upon  the  natives  of  that  region.  At  Sandusky,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  work  had  been  but  half  done.  The 
tribes  of  that  place  felt  no  respect  for  the  English,  while 

IKJSC   l/U     WIC  BOUl/llWiiXU.  ixiiu.    w  cs ;,  vv  ai  \-i    Xicivt.    iL7ccix  iijiu  xii  c» 

state  of  turbulence,  which  promised  an  abundant  harvest 


396 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


of  future  mischief.  In  one  particular,  at  least,  Bradstreet 
had  occasioned  serious  detriment  to  the  English  interest. 
The  Iroquois  allies,  who  had  joined  his  army,  were  dis- 
gusted by  his  treatment  of  them,  while  they  were  roused 
to  contempt  by  the  imbecility  of  his  conduct  towards  the 
enemy ;  and  thus  the  efforts  of  Sir  William  Johnson  to 
secure  the  attachment  of  these  powerful  tribes  were  in  no 
small  degree  counteracted  and  neutralized. 

While  Bradstreet's  troops  were  advancing  upon  the 
lakes,  or  lying  idle  in  their  camp  at  Sandusky,  another 
expedition  was  in  progress  at  the  southward,  with  abler 
conduct  and  a  more  auspicious  result. 


!! 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

BOUQUET  FORCES  THE  DELAWARKS  AND  8HAWANOE8 
TO  SUE  FOR  PEACE. 

The  scruples  of  the  Quakers,  and  the  dissensions  in  the 
provincial  government,  had  so  far  protracted  the  debates 
of  the  Pennsylvanian  Assembly  that  it  was  late  in  the 
spring  before  supplies  were  granted  for  the  service  of  the 
ensuing  summer.  In  the  mean  time,  the  work  of  ravage 
had  begun  afresh  upon  the  borders.  The  Indians  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  remove  all  their  settlements  to  the 
western  side  of  the  River  Muskingum,  trusting  that  the 
impervious  forests,  with  their  unnumbered  streams,  would 
prove  a  sufficient  barrier  against  invasion.  Having  thus, 
as  they  thought,  placed  their  women  and  children  in 
safety,  they  had  flung  themselves  upon  the  settlements 
with  all  the  rage  and  ferocity  of  the  previous  season.  So 
fierce  and  active  were  the  war-parties  on  the  borders, 
that  the  English  governor  of  Pennsylvania  had  recourse  to 
a  measure  which  the  frorttier  inhabitants  had  long  de- 
manded, and  issued  a  proclamation,  offering  a  high  bounty 
for  Indian  scalps,  whether  of  men  or  women ;  a  barbarous 
expedient,  fruitful  of  butcheries  and  murders,  but  inca- 
pable of  producing  any  decisive  result.* 

*  The  following  is  an  extract  from  the  proclamation  : — 
*•  I  do  hereby  declare  and  promise,  that  there  shall  be  paid  out 
of  the  moneys  lately  granted  for  his  majesty's  use,  to  all  and 
every  person  and  persons  not  in  the  pay  of  this  province,  the  fol- 
lowing severa  and  respective  premiums  and  bounties  for  the 
prisoners  and  scalps  of  the  enemy  Indians  that  shall  be  taken  or 
killed  within  the  bounds  of  this  province,  as  limited  by  the  royal 
charter,  or  in  pursuit  from  within  tlie  said  bounds  :  that  is  to 

1 


T.      1  • 


say,  lor  every  maie  muian  enemy  uuuvu  s/cu  juais  uiu,  wnu  suai, 

091 


398 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Early  in  the  season,  a  soldier  named  David  Owens, 
who,  several  years  before,  had  deserted  and  joined  the  In- 
dians, crime  to  one  of  the  outposts,  accompanied  by  a 
young  provincial  recently  taken  prisoner  on  the  Delaware, 
and  bringing  five  scalps.  While  living  among  the  In- 
dians, Owens  had  formed  a  connection  with  one  of  their 
women,  who  had  borne  him  several  children.  Grow- 
ing tired,  at  length,  of  the  forest  life,  he  had  become 
anxious  to  return  to  the  settlements,  but  feared  to  do  so 
without  first  having  made  some  atonement  for  his  former 
desertion.  One  night,  he  had  been  encamped  on  the  Sus- 
quehanna,  with  a  party  consisting  of  four  Shawanoe 
warriors,  a  boy  of  the  same  tribe,  his  own  wife  and  two 
children,  and  another  Indian  woman.  The  young  pro- 
vincial, who  came  with  him  to  the  settlements,  was  also 
present.  In  the  middle  of  the  night,  Owens  arose,  and, 
looking  about  him,  saw,  by  the  dull  glow  of  the  camp-fire^ 
that  all  were  buried  in  deep  sleep.  Cautiously  awakening 
the  young  provincial,  he  told  him  to  leave  the  place,  and 
lie  quiet,  at  a  little  distance,  until  he  should  call  him. 
He  next  stealthily  removed  the  weapons  from  beside  the 
sleeping  savages,  and  concealed  them  in  the  woods,  re- 
serving to  himself  two  loaded  rifles.  Returning  to  the 
camp,  he  knelt  on  the  ground  between  two  of  the  yet 
unconscious  warriors,  and,  pointing  a  rifle  at  the  head 

of  each,  touched  the  triggers,  and  shot  both  dead  at  once, 

r 

be  taken  prisoner,  and  delivered  at  any  forts  garrisoned  by  the 
troops  in  the  pay  of  this  province,  or  at  any  of  the  county  towns, 
to  the  keeper  of  the  common  jails  there,  the  sum  of  one  hundrtd 
and  fifty  Spanish  dollars,  or  pieces  of  eight.  For  every  female 
India  enemy,  taken  prisoner  and  brought  in  as  aforesaid,  and 
for  every  male  Indian  enemy  of  ten  years  old  or  under,  taken 
prisoner  and  delivered  as  aforesaid,  the  sum  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty  pieces  of  eight.  For  the  scalp  of  every  male  Indian 
enemy  above  the  age  of  ten  years,  produced  as  evidence  of  their 
being  killed,  the  sum  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-four  pieces  of 
eight.  And  for  the  scalp  of  every  female  Indian  enemy  above 
the  age  of  ten  years,  produced  as  evidence  of  their  being  killed, 
the  sum  of  fifty  pieces  of  eight." 


DAVID  OWENS. 


399 


Startled  by  the  reports,  the  survivors  sprang  to  their  feet 
in  bewildered  terror.  The  two  remaining  warriors 
bounded  into  the  woods ;  but  the  women  and  children, 
benumbed  with  friglit,  had  no  power  to  escape,  and  one 
and  all  died  shrieking  under  the  hatchet  of  the  miscreant. 
His  devilish  work  complete,  the  wretch  sat  watching  un- 
til daylight  among  the  dead  bodies  of  his  children  and 
comrades,  undaunted  by  the  awful  gloom  and  solitude  of 
the  darkened  forest.  In  the  morning,  he  scalped  his 
victims,  with  the  exception  of  the  two  children,  and,  fol- 
lowed by  the  young  white  man,  directed  his  steps  to- 
wards the  settlements,  with  the  blcx)dy  trophies  of  his 
atrocity.  His  desertion  was  pardoned  ;  he  was  employed 
as  an  interpreter,  and  ordered  to  accompany  the  troops  on 
the  intended  expedition.  His  example  is  one  of  many  in 
which  the  worst  acts  of  Indian  ferocity  have  been  thrown 
into  shade  by  the  enormities  of  white  barbarians.* 

Colonel  Bouquet  was  now  pushing  his  preparations  for 
the  campaign  with  his  utmost  zeal ;  but  August  arrived 
before  the  provincial  troops  were  in  readiness.  On  the 
fifth  of  that  month,  the  whole  force  was  united  at 
Carlisle,  and  consisted  of  five  hundred  regulars, — most  of 
whom  had  fought  in  the  battle  of  Bushy  Run,  of  which 
that  day  was  the  anniversary, — a  thousand  Pennsyl  vanians, 
and  a  small  but  invaluable  corps  of  Virginia  riflemen. 
After  remaining  for  a  few  days  at  Carlisle,  the  troops 

*  "  Burnetsfleld,  June  18th,  1764. 

"David  Owens  was  a  Corporal  in  Capt.  McClean's  Compy., 
and  lay  once  in  Garrison  at  my  House.  He  deserted  several 
times,  as  I  am  informed,  &  went  to  live  among  the  Delawares  & 
Shawanese,  with  whose  language  he  was  acquainted.  His  Father 
having  been  long  a  trader  amongst  them. 

"The  circumstances  relating  to  his  leaving  the  Indians  have 
been  told  me  by  several  Indians.  That  he  went  out  a  hunting 
with  his  Indian  Wife  and  several  of  her  relations,  most  of  whom, 
witii  his  Wife,  he  killed  and  scalped  as  they  slept.  As  he  was 
always  much  attached  to  Indians,  I  fancy  he  began  to  fear  he 
was  unsafe  amongst  them,  &  killed  them  rather  to  make  his 

their  principles." 


Ife- 


400 


THE  CONSPIKACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


advanced  to  Fort  Loudon,  which  they  reached  on  the  thir- 
teenth.  Here  they  were  delayed  for  several  weeks,  and 
here  BoiKjuet  received  the  strange  communication  from 
Colonel  Bradstreet,  in  which  the  latter  informed  him 
that  he  had  made  a  preliminary  treaty  with  the  Dela- 
wares  and  Shawanoes,  and  that  all  operations  against 
them  might  now  he  ahandoned.  We  have  already  seen 
that  Bouquet  disregarded  this  message,  thinking  himself 
in  no  way  called  upon  to  lay  aside  his  plans  against  an 
enemy  who  was  suing  for  peace  on  one  side,  and  butcher- 
ing and  scalping  on  another.  Continuing  therefore  to 
advance,  he  passed  in  safety  the  scene  of  his  desperate 
fight  of  the  last  summer,  and  on  the  seventeenth  of  Sep- 
tember arrived  at  Fort  Pitt,  with  no  other  loss  than  that 
of  a  few  men  picked  off  from  the  flanks  and  rear  by  lurk- 
ing Indii^n  marksmen. 

Soon  after  his  arrival,  a  party  of  Delaware  chiefs 
appeared  on  the  farther  bank  of  the  river,  pretending  to 
be  deputies  sent  by  their  nation  to  confer  with  the  Eng- 
lish commander.  Three  of  them,  after  much  hesita- 
tion, came  over  to  the  fort,  where,  being  closely  questioned, 
and  found  unable  to  give  any  good  account  of  their  mission, 
they  were  detained  as  spies,  while  their  companions, 
greatly  disconcerted,  fled  back  to  their  villages.  Bouquet 
released  one  of  the  three  captives,  and  sent  him  home 
with  the  following  message  to  his  people : — 

« I  have  received  an  account,  from  Colonel  Bradstreet, 
that  your  nations  had  begged  for  peace,  which  he  had 
consented  to  grant,  upon  assurance  that  you  ha^  recalled 
all  your  warriors  from  our  frontiers ;  and  in  coi;  sequence 
of  this,  I  would  not  have  proceeded  against  your  towns, 
if  I  had  not  heard  that,  in  open  violation  of  your  engage- 
ments, you  have  since  murdered  several  of  our  people. 

"  I  was  therefore  determined  to  have  attacked  you,  as 
a  people  whose  promises  can  no  more  be  relied  on.  But 
I  will  put  it  once  more  in  your  power  to  save  yourselves 
and  vour  families  from  total  fifisfrnntion  hv  mvinrp  im 
satisfaction    for  the    hostilities    committed  against   us. 


THE  MARCH  OF  ROUQQET'S  ARMY. 


^1 


And  first,  you  are  to  leave  the  path  open  for  my  expresses 
from  hence  to  Detroit ;  and  as  I  am  now  to  send  two 
men  with  despatches  to  Colonel  Hradstreet,  who  com- 
mands on  the  lakes,  I  desire  to  know  whether  you  will 
send  two  of  your  people  to  bring  th«  m  safe  back  with  an 
answer.  And  if  they  receive  any  injury  either  in  going 
or  coming,  or  if  tlie  letters  are  taken  from  them,  I  will 
immediately  put  the  Indians  now  in  my  power  to  death, 
and  will  show  no  mercy,  for  the  future,  to  any  of  your 
nations  that  shall  fall  into  my  hands.  I  allow  you  ten 
days  to  have  my  letters  delivered  at  Detroit,  and  ten  days 
to  bring  me  back  an  answer. 

The  liberated  spy  faithfully  discharged  his  mission, 
and  the  firm,  decisive  tone  of  the  message  had  a  profound 
effect  upon  the  hostile  warriors ;  clearly  indicating,  as  it 
did,  with  what  manner  of  man  they  had  to  deal.  Many, 
who  were  before  clamorous  for  battle,  were  now  ready  to 
sue  for  peace,  as  the  only  means  to  avert  their  ruin. 

Before  the  army  was  ready  to  march,  two  Iroqur  \ 
warriors  came  to  the  fort,  pretending  friendship,  but 
anxious,  in  reality,  to  retard  the  expedition  until  the 
approaching  winter  should  make  it  impossible  to  proceed. 
They  represented  the  numbers  of  the  enemy,  and  the 
extreme  difficulty  of  penetrating  so  rough  a  country,  and 
affirmed  that  if  the  troops  remained  quiet,  the  hostile 
tribes,  who  were  already  collecting  their  prisoners,  would 
soon  arrive  to  make  their  submission.  Bou(juet  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  their  advice,  and  sent  them  to  inform  the  Dela- 
wares  and  Shawanoes  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  chastise 
them  for  their  perfidy  and  cruelty,  unless  they  should 
save  themselves  by  an  ample  and  speedy  atonement. 

Early  in  October,  the  troops  left  Fort  Pitt,  and  began 
their  westward  march  into  a  wilderness  which  no  army 
had  ever  before  sought  to  ])enetrate.  Encumbered  with 
their  camp  equipage,  with  droves  of  cattle  and  sheep  for 
subsistence,  and  a  long  train  of  pack  horses  laden  with 

r»rrkTnuir\n    fVioir    -n-mfvyaaa    •\.\Toa    fprlinna     nrifl     difficult,-    JlTlH 

seven  or  eight  miles  were  the  ordinary  measure  of  a  day's 
26 


j|M|||j|yj 


402 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


march.  The  woodsmen  of  Virginia,  veteran  hunters  and 
Indian- fighters,  were  thrown  far  out  in  front,  and  on 
either  flank,  scouring  the  forest  to  detect  any  sign  of  a 
hirking  ambuscade.  The  pioneers  toiled  in  the  van, 
hewing  their  way  througli  woods  and  thickets,  while  the 
army  dragged  its  weary  length  behind  them  through  the 
forest,  like  a  serpent  creeping  through  tall  grass.  The 
surrounding  country,  whenever  a  casual  opening  in  the 
matted  foliage  gave  a  glimpse  of  its  features,  disclosed 
scenery  of  wild,  primeval  beauty.  Sometimes  the  army 
skirted  the  margin  of  the  Ohio,  with  its  broad  eddying 
current  and  the  bright  landscape  of  its  shores.  Some- 
times they  descended  into  the  thickest  gloom  oi'  the 
woods,  damp,  still,  and  cool  as  the  recesses  of  a  cavern, 
where  the  black  soil  oozed  beneath  the  tread,  where  the 
rough  columns  of  the  forest  seemed  to  exude  a  clammy 
sweat,  and  the  slimy  mosses  were  trickling  with  moisture, 
while  the  carcasses  of  prostrate  trees,  green  with  the  decay 
of  a  century,  sank  into  pulp  at  the  lightest  pressure  of 
the  foot.  More  frequently,  the  forest  was  of  a  fresher 
growth,  ?  id  the  restless  leaves  of  young  maples  and  bass- 
wood  shook  down  spots  of  sunlight  on  the  marching 
columns.  Sometimes  they  waded  the  clear  current  of  a 
stream,  with  its  vistas  of  arching  foliage  and  sparkling 
water.  There  were  intervals,  but  these  were  rare,  when, 
escaping  for  a  moment  from  the  labyrinth  of  woods,  they 
emerged  into  the  light  of  an  open  meadow,  rich  with 
herba^'*^,  and  girdled  by  a  zone  of  forest,  gladdened  by  the 
notes  of  birds,  and  enlivened,  it  may  be,  by  grazing  herds 
of  deer.  These  spots,  welcome  to  the  forest  traveller  as 
an  oasis  to  a  wanderer  in  the  desert,  form  the  precursors 
of  the  prairies,  which,  growing  wider  and  more  frequent 
as  one  advances  westward,  expand  at  last  into  the  bound- 
less plains  beyond  the  Mississippi. 

On  the  tenth  day  after  leaving  Fort  Pitt,  the  army 
reached  the  River  Muskingum,  and  approached  the  ob 

TPPfa  nf   f.boir    mnrnVi      ■f.V»a 


nrkmoo 


on/1 


barbarian  warriors,  who  had  turned  whole  district  j  into 


TERROR  OF  THE  ENEMY. 


403 


desolation.  Their  progress  had  met  no  interruption.  A 
few  skulking  Indiana  had  hovered  about  them,  but, 
alarmed  by  their  numbers,  feared  to  venture  an  attack. 
The  Indian  cabins  which  they  passed  on  their  way  were 
desert*id  by  their  tenants,  who  had  joined  their  western 
brethren.  When  the  troops  crossed  the  Muskingum, 
they  saw,  a  little  below  the  fording-place,  the  alwindoned 
wigwams  of  the  village  of  Tuscaroras,  recently  the  abode 
of  more  than  a  hundred  families,  who  had  fled  in  terror 
at  the  approach  of  the  invaders 

Bouquet  was  in  the  heart  cf  the  enemy's  country. 
Their  villages,  except  some  remoter  settlements  of  the 
Shawanoes,  all  lay  within  a  few  days'  march,  and  no 
other  choice  was  left  them  than  to  sue  for  peace,  or  risk 
the  desperate  chances  of  battle  against  a  commander  who, 
a  year  before,  with  a  third  of  his  present  force,  hud 
signally  routed  them  at  the  fight  of  Bushy  Run.  The 
vigorous  and  active  among  them  might,  it  is  true,  escape 
by  flight;  but,  in  doing  so,  they  must  abandon  to  the 
victors  their  dwellings,  and  their  secret  hoards  of  com. 
They  were  confounded  at  the  multitude  of  the  invaders, 
exaggerated,  doubtless,  in  the  reports  which  reached 
their  villages,  and  amazed  that  an  army  should  force  its 
way  so  deep  into  the  forest  fastnesses,  which  they  had 
always  deemed  impregnabl*^  They  knew,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  Colonel  Bradstreet  was  still  at  Sandusky,  in  a 
position  to  assail  them  in  the  rear.  Thus  pressed  on  both 
sides,  they  saw  that  they  must  submit,  and  bend  their 
stubborn  pride  to  beg  for  peace,  not  alone  with  words 
which  cost  nothing,  and  would  have  been  worth  nothing, 
but  by  the  delivery  of  prisoners,  and  the  surrender  of  chiefs 
and  warriors  as  hostages  of  good  faith.  Bouquet  had 
sent  two  soldiers  from  Fort  Pitt  with  letters  to  Colonel 
Bradstreet ;  but  these  men,  in  defiance  of  his  threats, 
had  been  seized  and  detained  by  the  Delawr.res.  They 
now  appeared  at  his  camp,  sent  back  by  their  captors,  with 
a  message  to  the  effect  tiiat  within  a  few  days  the  chiefs 
would  arrive  and  hold  a  conference  with  him. 


404 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Bouquet  continued  his  march  down  the  valley  of  the 
Muskingum,  until  he  reached  a  spot  where  the  broad 
meadows,  which  bordered  the  river,  would  supply  abun- 
dant grazing  for  the  cattle  and  horses,  while  the  terraces 
above,  shaded  by  forest-trees,  offered  a  convenient  site 
for  encampment.  Here  he  began  to  erect  a  small  pali- 
sade work,  as  a  depot  for  stores  and  baggage.  Before  the 
task  was  complete,  a  deputation  of  chiefs  arrived,  bring- 
ing word  that  their  warriors  were  encamped,  in  great 
numbers,  about  eight  miles  from  the  spot,  and  desiring 
Bouquet  to  appoint  the  time  and  place  for  a  council. 
He  ordered  them  to  meet  him,  on  the  next  day,  at  a 
point  near  the  margin  of  the  river,  a  little  below  the 
camp;  and  thither  a  party  of  men  were  at  once  de- 
spatched, to  erect  a  sort  of  rustic  arbor  of  saplings  and 
the  boughs  of  trees,  large  enough  to  shelter  the  English 
officers  and  the  Indian  chiefs.  With  a  host  of  warriors 
in  the  neighborhood,  who  would  gladly  break  in  upon 
them,  could  they  hope  that  the  attack  would  succeed,  it 
behoved  the  English  to  use  every  precaution.  A  double 
guard  was  placed,  and  a  stringent  discipline  enforced. 

In  the  morning,  the  little  army  moved  in  battle  order 
to  the  place  of  council.  Here  the  principal  officers  as- 
sumed their  seats  under  the  canopy  of  branches,  while 
the  glittering  array  of  the  troops  was  drawn  out  on  the 
meadow  in  front,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  produce  the 
most  imposing  effect  on  the  minds  of  the  Indians,  in 
whose  eyes  the  sight  of  fifteen  hundred  men  under  arms 
was  a  spectacle  equally  new  and  astounding.  The  per- 
fect order  and  silence  of  the  far-extended  lines,  die  ridges 
of  bayonets  flashing  in  the  sun,  the  fluttering  tartans  of 
the  Highland  regulars,  the  bright  red  uniform  of  the 
Royal  Americans,  the  darker  garb  and  duller  trappings 
of  the  Pennsylvania  troops,  and  the  bands  of  Virginia 
backwoodsmen,  who,  in  fringed  hunting-frocks  and  In- 
dian moccasons,  stood  leaning  carelessly  on  their  rifles, — 
all  these  combined  to  form  a  scene  of  military  pomp  and 
power  not  soon  to  be  forgotten. 


SPEECH  OF  THE  DELAWARE  ORATOR. 


405 


At  the  appointed  hour,  the  deputation  appeared.  The 
most  prominent  among  them  were  Kiashuta,  chief  of  the 
band  of  Senecas  who  had  deserted  their  ancient  homes  to 
form  a  colony  on  the  Ohio ;  Custaloga,  chief  of  the  Dela- 
wares  ;  and  the  head  chief  of  the  Shawanoes,  whose  name 
sets  orthography  at  defiance.  As  they  approached, 
painted  and  pkimed  in  all  their  savage  pomp,  they  looked 
neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  to  the  left,  not  deigning, 
under  the  eyes  of  their  enemy,  to  cast  even  a  glance  at 
the  military  display  around  them.  They  seated  them- 
selves, with  stern,  impassive  looks,  and  an  air  of  sullen 
dignity,  while  their  black  and  sombre  brows  betrayed  the 
hatred  still  rankling  in  their  hearts.  After  a  few  minutes 
had  been  consumed  in  the  indispensable  ceremony  of 
smoking.  Turtle  Heart,  a  chief  of  the  Dela wares,  and 
orator  of  the  deputation,  rose,  bearing  in  his  hand  a  bag 
containing  the  belts  of  wampum.  Addressing  himself  to 
the  English  commander,  he  spoke  as  follows,  delivering 
a  belt  for  every  clause  of  his  speech :  — 

"  Brother,  I  speak  in  be"half  of  the  three  nations  whose 
chiefs  are  here  present.  With  this  belt  I  open  your  ears 
and  your  hearts,  that  you  may  listen  to  my  words. 

"  Brother,  this  war  was  neither  your  fault  nor  ours. 
It  was  the  work  of  the  nations  who  live  to  the  westward, 
and  of  our  wild  young  men,  who  would  have  killed  us  if 
we  had  resisted  them.  We  now  put  away  all  evil  from 
our  hearts,  and  we  hope  that  your  mind  and  ours  will 
once  more  be  united  together. 

"  Brother,  it  is  the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit  that  there 
should  be  peace  between  us.  We,  on  our  side,  now  take 
fast  hold  of  the  chain  of  friendship ;  but,  as  we  cannot 
hold  it  alone,  we  desire  thai  you  will  take  hold  also,  and 
we  must  look  up  to  the  Great  Spirit,  that  he  may  make 
us  strong,  and  not  permit  this  chain  to  fall  from  our 
hands. 

"  Brother,  these  words  come  from  our  hearts,  and  not 
from  our  lips.  You  desire  that  we  should  deliver  up 
your  flesh  and  blood  now  captive  among  us ;  and,  to  show 


406 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


you  that  we  are  sincere,  we  now  return  you  as  many  of 
them  as  we  have  at  present  been  able  to  bring.  [Here 
he  deliyered  eighteen  white  prisoners,  who  had  been 
brought  by  the  deputation  to  the  council.]  You  shall 
receive  the  rest  as  soon  as  we  have  time  to  collect  them." 

In  such  figurative  terms,  not  devoid  of  dignity,  did  the 
Indian  oracor  sue  for  peace  to  his  detested  enemies. 
When  he  had  concluded,  the  chiefs  of  every  tribe  rose  in 
succession,  to  express  concurrence  in  what  he  had  said, 
each  delivering  a  belt  of  wampum  and  a  bundle  of  small 
sticks,  the  latter  designed  to  indicate  a  number  of  English 
prisoners  whom  his  followers  retained,  and  whom  he 
pledged  himself  to  surrender.  In  an  Indian  council, 
when  one  of  ^.he  speakers  has  advanced  a  matter  of  weight 
and  urgency,  the  other  party  defers  his  reply  to  the  fol- 
lowing day,  that  due  time  may  be  allowed  for  deliberation. 
Accordingly,  in  the  present  instance,  the  council  adjourned 
to  the  next  morning,  each  party  retiring  to  its  respective 
camp.  But,  when  day  dawned,  a  change  was  apparent 
in  the  aspects  of  the  weather.  The  valley  of  the  Musk- 
ingum was  filled  with  driving  mist  and  rain,  and  the 
meeting  was  in  consequence  postponed.  On  the  third 
day,  the  landscape  brightened  afresh,  the  troops  marched 
once  more  to  the  place  of  council,  and  the  Indian  chiefs 
convened  to  hear  the  reply  of  their  triumphant  foe.  It 
was  not  of  a  kind  to  please  them.  The  first  opening 
words  gave  an  earnest  of  what  was  to  come  ;  for  Bouquet 
discarded  the  usual  address  of  an  Indian  harangue,  fathers, 
brothers,  or  children, — terms  which  imply  a  relation  of 
friendship,  or  a  desire  to  conciliate, — and  adopted  a  sterner 
and  more  distant  form. 

"  Sachems,  war-chiefs,  and  warriors,*  the  excuses  you 

*  The  sachem  is  the  civil  chief,  who  directs  the  counsels  of  the 
tribe,  and  governs  in  time  of  peace.  His  office,  on  certain  con- 
ditions, is  hereditary,  while  the  war-chief,  or  military  leader, 
acquires  his  authority  solely  by  personal  merit,  and  seldom  trans- 
mits it  to  his  offspring.  Sometimes  the  civil  and  military  func- 
tions are  discharged  by  the  same  person,  as  in  the  instance  of 
Pontiac  himself. 


REPLY  OF  BOUQUET. 


407 


have  offered  are  frivolous  and  unavailing,  and  your  con- 
duct is  without  defence  or  apology.  You  could  not  have 
acted  as  you  pretend  to  have  done  through  fear  of  the  west- 
ern nations ;  for,  had  you  stood  faithful  to  us,  you  knew 
that  we  would  have  protected  you  against  their  anger ; 
and  as  for  your  young  men,  it  was  your  duty  to  punish 
them,  if  they  did  a^^niss.  You  have  drawn  down  our  just 
resentment  by  your  violence  and  perfidy.  Last  summer, 
in  cold  blood,  and  in  a  time  of  profound  peace,  you  robbed 
and  murdered  the  traders,  who  had  come  among  you  at 
your  ovv'^n  express  desire.  You  attacked  Fort  Pitt,  which 
was  built  by  your  consent,  and  you  destroyed  our  out- 
posts and  garrisons,  whenever  treachery  could  place  them 
in  your  power.  You  assailed  our  troops — the  same  who 
now  stand  before  you — in  the  woods  at  Bushy  Run  ;  and, 
when  we  had  routed  and  driven  you  off,  you  sent  your 
scalping-parties  to  the  frontier,  and  murdered  many  hun- 
dreds of  our  people.  Last  July,  when  the  other  nations 
came  to  ask  for  peace,  at  Niagara,  you  not  only  refused 
to  attend,  but  sent  an  insolent  message  instead,  in  which 
you  expressed  a  pretended  contempt  for  the  English, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  told  the  surrounding  nations  that 
you  would  never  lay  down  the  hatchet.  Afterwards, 
when  Colonel  Bradstreet  came  up  Lake  Erie,  you  sent  a 
deputation  of  your  chiefs,  and  concluded  a  treaty  with 
him ;  but  your  engagements  were  no  sooner  made  than 
broken ;  and  from  that  day  to  this,  you  have  scalped  and 
butchered  us  without  ceasing.  Nay,  I  am  informed  that, 
when  you  heard  that  this  army  was  penetrating  the 
woods,  you  mustered  your  warriors  to  attack  us,  and  were 
only  deterred  from  doing  so  when  you  found  how  greatly 
we  outnumbered  you.  This  is  not  the  only  instance  of 
your  bad  faith  ;  for,  since  the  beginning  of  the  last  war, 
you  have  made  repeated  treaties  with  us,  and  promised 
to  give  up  your  prisoners  ;  but  you  have  never  kept  these 


CI/MYI£& 


omission  and  condensation,  from  the  journals  mentioned  in  the 
preceding  note. 


Hiiiminip , 


,1     i 


liiik' 


408 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAO. 


engagements,  nor  any  others.  We  shall  endure  this  no 
longer ;  and  I  am  now  come  among  you  to  force  you  to 
make  atonement  for  the  injuries  you  have  done  us.  I 
have  brought  with  me  the  relatives  of  those  you  have 
murdered.  They  are  eager  for  vengeance,  and  nothing 
restrains  them  from  taking  it  but  my  assurance  that  this 
army  shall  not  leave  your  country  until  you  have  given 
them  an  ample  satisfaction. 

"Your  allies,  the  Ottawas,   Ojibwas,  and  Wyandots, 
have  begged  for  peace ;  the  Six  Nations  have  leagued 
themselves  with  us ;  the  great  lakes  and  rivers  around 
you  are  all  in  our  possession,  and  your  friends  the  French 
are  in  subjection  to  us,  and  can  do  no  more  to  aid  you.   You 
are  all  in  our  power,  and  if  we  choose  we  can  exterminate 
you  from  the  earth  ;  but  the  English  are  a  merciful  and 
generous  people,  averse  to  shed  the  blood  even  of  their 
greatest  enemies  ;  and  if  it  were  possible  that  you  could 
convince  us  that  you  sincerely  repent  of  your  past  perfidy, 
and  that  we  could  depend  on  your  good  behavior  for  the 
future,  you  might  yet  hope  for  mercy  and  peace.     If  I 
find  that  you  faithfully  execute  the  conditions  which  I 
shall  prescribe,  I  will  not  treat  you  with  the  severity  you 
deserve. 

"I  give  you  twelve  days  from  this  date  to  deliver  into 
my  hands  all  the  prisoners  in  your  possession,  without  ex- 
ception ;  Englishmen,  Frenchmen,  women,  and  children ; 
whether  adopted  into  your  tribes,  married,  or  living 
among  you  under  any  denomination  or  pretence  whatso- 
ever. And  you  are  to  furnish  these  prisoners  with  cloth- 
ing, provision,  and  horses,  to  carry  them  to  Fort  Pitt. 
When  you  have  fully  complied  with  these  conditions,  you 
shall  then  know  on  what  terms  you  may  obtain  the  peace 
you  sue  for." 

This  speech,  with  the  stern  voice  and  countenance  of 
the  speaker,  told  with  chilling  effect  upon  the  awe-stricken 
hearers.  It  quelled  their  native  haughtiness,  and  sunk 
thciu  to  the  depths  of  humiliation.  Their  speeches  in 
reply  were  dull  and  insipid,  void  of  that  savage  eloquence, 


EFFECT  OF  BOUQUET'S  SPEECH. 


4W9 


which,  springing  from  a  wild  spirit  of  independence,  has 
so  often  distinguished  the  forest  orators.  Judging  the 
temper  of  their  enemies  by  their  own  insatiable  thirst  for 
vengeance,  they  hastened,  with  all  the  alacrity  of  terror,  to 
fulfil  the  prescribed  conditions,  and  avert  the  threatened 
ruin.  They  dispersed  to  their  different  villages,  to  collect 
and  bring  in  the  prisoners ;  while  Bouquet,  on  his  part, 
knowing  that  his  best  security  for  their  good  faith  was  to 
keep  up  the  alarm  which  his  decisive  measures  had  created, 
determined  to  march  yet  nearer  to  their  settlements.  Still 
following  the  course  of  the  Muskingum,  he  descended  to 
a  spot  near  its  confluence  with  its  main  branch,  which 
might  be  regarded  as  a  central  point  with  respect  to  the 
surrounding  Indian  villages.  Here,  with  the  exception 
of  the  distant  Shawanoe  settlements,  they  were  all  within 
reach  of  his  hand,  and  he  could  readily  chastise  the  first 
attempt  at  deceit  or  evasion.  The  principal  chiefs  of 
each  tribe  had  been  forced  to  accompany  him  as  hostages. 

For  the  space  of  a  day,  hundreds  of  axes  were  busy  at 
their  work.  The  trees  were  felled,  the  ground  cleared, 
and,  with  marvellous  rapidity,  a  town  sprang  up  in  the 
heart  of  the  wilderness,  martial  in  aspect  and  rigorous  in 
discipline ;  with  storehouses,  hospitals,  and  works  of  de- 
fence, rude  sylvan  cabins  mingled  with  white  tents,  and 
the  forest  rearing  its  sombre  rampart  round  the  whole. 
On  one  side  of  this  singular  encampment  was  a  range  of 
buildings,  designed  to  receive  the  expected  prisoners; 
and  matrons,  brought  for  this  purpose  with  the  army, 
were  appointed  to  take  charge  of  the  women  and  children 
among  them.  At  the  opposite  end,  a  canopy  of  branches, 
sustained  on  the  upright  trunks  of  young  trees,  formed  a 
rude  council-hall,  in  keeping  with  the  savage  assembly 
for  whose  reception  it  was  designed. 

And  now,  issuing  from  the  forest,  came  warriors,  con- 
ducting troops  of  prisoners,  or  leading  captive  children, — 
wild  young  barbarians,  born  perhaps  among  themselves, 
and  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  their  own.  Yet, 
seeing  the  sullen  reluctance  which  the  Indians  soon  be- 


-1e^ 


410 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


trayed  in  this  ungrateful  task,  Bouquet  thought  it  expe- 
dient to  stimulate  their  efforts  by  sending  detachments 
of  soldiers  to  each  of  the  villages,  still  retaining  the  chiefs 
in  pledge  for  their  safety.  About  this  time,  a  party  of 
friendly  Indians  arrived  with  a  letter  from  Colonel  Brad- 
street,  dated  at  Sandusky.  The  writer  declared  that  he 
was  unable  to  remain  longer  in  the  Indian  country,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  retiring  down  Lake  Erie  with  his 
army ;  a  movement  which,  at  the  least,  was  of  doubtful 
necessity,  and  which  might  have  involved  the  most  dis- 
astrous consequences.  Had  the  tidings  been  received  but 
a  few  days  sooner,  the  whole  effect  of  Bouquet's  measures 
would  probably  have  been  destroyed,  the  Indians  en- 
couraged to  resistance,  and  the  war  brought  to  the  arbi- 
tration of  a  battle,  which  must  needs  have  been  a  fierce 
and  bloo(^y  one.  But,  happily  for  both  parties.  Bouquet 
now  had  his  enemies  firmly  in  his  grasp,  and  the  boldest 
warrior  dared  not  violate  the  truce. 

The  messengers  who  brought  the  letter  of  Bradstreet 
brought  also  the  tidings  that  peace  was  made  with  the 
northern  Indians,  but  stated,  at  the  same  time,  that  these 
tribes  had  murdered  many  of  their  captives,  and  given  up 
few  of  the  remainder,  so  that  no  small  number  were  still 
within  their  power.  The  conduct  of  Bradstreet  in  this 
matter  was  the  more  disgraceful,  since  he  had  been  en- 
camped for  weeks  almost  within  gunshot  of  the  Wyandot 
villages  at  Sandusky,  where  most  of  the  prisoners  were 
detained.  Bouquet,  on  his  part,  though  separated  from 
this  place  by  a  journey  of  many  days,  resolved  to  take 
upon  himself  the  duty  which  iiis  brother  officer  had 
strangely  neglected.  He  sent  an  embassy  to  Sandusky, 
demanding  that  the  prisoners  should  be  surrendered. 
This  measure  was  in  a  great  degree  successful.  He  de- 
spatched messengers  soon  after  to  the  principal  Shawanoe 
village,  on  the  Scioto,  distant  about  eighty  jniles  from  his 
camp,  to  rouse  the  inhabitants  to  a  greater  activity  than 
they  seemed  inclined  to  display.  This  was  a  fortunate 
step,  for  the   Shawanoes  of  the  Scioto,  who  had  been 


SUBMISSION  OF  THE  SHAWANOES. 


411 


guilty  of  atrocious  cruelties  during  the  war,  had  conceived 
the  idea  that  they  were  excluded  from  the  general  am- 
nesty, and  marked  out  for  destruction.  This  notion  had 
been  propagated,  and  perhaps  suggested,  by  the  French 
traders  in  their  villages ;  and  so  thorough  was  the  con- 
viction of  the  Shawanoes,  that  they  came  to  the  desperate 
purpose  of  murdering  their  prisoners,  and  marching,  with 
all  the  warriors  they  could  muster,  to  attack  the  English. 
This  plan  was  no  sooner  formed  than  the  French  traders 
opened  their  stores  of  bullets  and  gunpowder,  and  dealt 
them  out  freely  to  the  Indians.  Bouquet's  messengers 
came  in  time  to  prevent  the  catastrophe,  and  relieve  the 
terrors  of  the  Shawanoes,  by  the  assurance  that  peace 
would  be  granted  to  them  on  the  same  conditions  as  to  the 
rest.  Thus  encouraged,  they  abandoned  their  design,  and 
set  out  with  lighter  hearts  for  the  English  camp,  bringing 
with  them  a  portion  of  their  prisoners.  When  about  half 
way  on  their  journey,  they  were  met  by  an  Indian  runner, 
who  told  them  that  a  soldier  had  been  killed  in  the  woods, 
and  their  tribe  charged  with  the  crime.  On  hearing  this, 
their  fear  revived,  and  with  it  their  former  purpose.  Hav- 
ing collected  their  prisoners  in  a  meadow,  they  sur- 
rounded the  miserable  wretches,  armed  with  guns,  war- 
clubs,  and  bows  and  arrows,  and  prepared  to  put  them  to 
death.  But  another  runner  arrived  before  the  butchery 
began,  and,  assuring  them  that  what  they  had  heard  was 
false,  prevail^'d  on  them  once  more  to  proceed.  They  pur- 
sued their  journey  without  farther  interruption,  and,  com- 
ing in  safety  to  the  .amp,  delivered  the  prisoners  whom 
they  had  brought. 

These  by  no  means  included  the  whole  number  of  their 
captives,  for  nearly  a  hundred  were  of  necessity  left  be- 
hind, because  they  belonged  to  warriors  who  had  gone  to 
the  Illinois  to  procure  arms  and  ammunition  from  the 
French ;  and  there  is  no  authority  in  an  Indian  commu- 

property,  even  in  circumstances  of  the  greatest  public  exi- 
gency.   This  was  clearly  understood  by  the  English  com- 


412 


THE  CONSPIRACY  O^  PONTIAC. 


mander,  and  he  therefore  received  the  submission  of  the 
Shawanoes,  though  not  without  compel ''ng  them  to  de- 
liver hosUiges  for  the  future  surrender  of  the  remaining 
prisoners. 

Band  after  band  of  captives  had  been  daily  arriving, 
until  upwards  of  two  hundred  were  now  collected  in  the 
camp ;  including,  as  far  as  could  be  ascertained,  all  who 
had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  excepting  those  be- 
longing to  the  absenc  warriors  of  the  Shawanoes.  Up  to 
this  time,  Bouquet  had  maintained  a  stern  and  rigorous 
demeanor,  repressing  the  spirit  of  clemency  and  humanity 
which  eminently  distinguished  him,  refusing  all  friendly 
intercourse  with  the  Indians,  and  telling  them  that  he 
should  treat  them  as  enemies  until  they  had  fully  complied 
with  all  the  required  conditions.  In  this,  he  displayed 
his  knowledge  of  their  character;  for,  like  all  warlike 
savages,  they  are  extremely  prone  to  interpret  lenity  and 
moderation  into  timidity  and  indecision;  and  he  who, 
from  good  nature  or  mistaken  philanthropy,  is  betrayed 
into  yielding  a  point  which  he  has  before  insisted  on,  may 
have  deep  cause  to  rue  it.  As  their  own  dealings  with 
their  enemies  are  not  leavened  with  such  humanizing  in- 
gredients, they  are  seldom  able  to  comprehend  them  ;  and 
to  win  over  an  Indian  foe  by  kindness  should  only  be  at- 
tempted by  one  who  has  already  given  indubitable  proofs 
of  power,  and  established  an  unanswerable  claim  to  re- 
spect and  obedience. 

But  now,  when  every '  condition  was  satisfied,  such 
inexorable  rigor  was  no  longer  demanded ;  and  having 
convoked  the  chiefs  in  the  sylvan  council-house.  Bouquet 
signified  his  willingness  to  receive  their  offers  of  peace. 

"  Brother,"  began  the  Indian  orator,  «  with  this  belt  of 
wampum  I  dispel  the  black  cloud  that  has  hung  so  long 
over  our  heads,  that  the  sunshine  of  peace  may  once  more 
descend  to  warm  ar  d  gladden  us.  I  wipe  the  tears  from 
your  eyes,  and  condole  with  you  on  the  loss  of  your  breth- 
ren who  have  perished  in  this  war.  •  I  gather  their  bones 
together,  and  cover  them  deep  in  the  earth,  that  the  sight 


SPEECH  OF  THE  INDIAN  ORATOR. 


413 


of  them  may  no  longer  bring  sorrow  to  your  hearts ;  and 
I  scatter  dry  leaves  over  the  spot,  that  it  may  depart  for- 
ever from  memory. 

"The  path  of  peace,  which  once  ran  between  your 
dwellings  and  mine,  has  of  late  been  choked  with  thorns 
and  briers,  so  that  no  one  could  pass  that  way  ;  and  we 
have  both  almost  forgotten  that  such  a  path  had  ever 
been.  I  now  clear  away  all  these  obstructions,  and  make 
a  broad,  smooth  road,  so  that  you  and  I  may  freely  visit 
each  other,  as  our  fathers  used  to  do.  I  kindle  a  great 
council-fire,  whose  smoke  shall  rise  to  heaven,  in  view  of 
all  the  nations,  while  you  and  I  sit  together  and  smoke 
the  peace-pipe  at  its  blaze."  * 

*  An  Indian  council,  on  solemn  occasions,  is  always  opened 
with  preliminary  forms,  sufficiently  wearisome  and  tedious,  but 
made  indispensable  by  immemorial  custom  ;  for  this  people  are 
as  much  bound  by  their  conventional  usages  as  the  most  artificial 
children  of  civilization.  The  forms  are  varied  to  some  extent,  ac- 
cording to  the  imagination  and  taste  of  the  speaker  ;  but  in  all 
essential  respects  they  are  closely  similar,  throughout  the  tribes 
of  Algonquin  and  Iroquois  lineage.  They  run  somewhat  as  fol- 
lows, each  sentence  being  pronounced  with  great  solemnity,  and 
confirmed  by  the  delivery  of  a  wampum  belt :  *'  Brothere,  with 
this  belt  I  open  your  ears  that  you  may  hear— I  remove  grief  and 
sorrow  from  your  hearts — I  draw  from  your  feet  the  thorns  which 
have  pierced  them  as  you  journeyed  thither — I  clean  the  seats  of 
the  council-house,  that  you  may  sit  at  ease — I  wash  your  head 
and  body,  that  your  spirits  may  be  refreshed— I  condole  with  you 
on  the  loss  of  the  friends  who  have  died  since  we  last  met — I  wipe 
out  any  blood  which  may  have  been  spilt  between  us."  This  cere- 
mony, which,  by  the  delivery  of  so  many  belts  of  wampum,  en- 
tailed no  small  expense,  was  never  used  except  on  the  most  im- 
portant occasions  ;  and  at  the  councils  with  Colonel  Bouquet,  the 
angry  warriors  seem  wholly  to  have  dispensed  with  it. 

An  Indian  orator  is  provided  with  a  stock  of  metaphors,  which 
he  always  makes  use  of  for  the  expression  of  certain  ideas.  Thus, 
to  make  war  is  to  raise  the  hatchet ;  to  make  peace  is  to  take 
hold  of  the  chain  of  friendship ;  to  deliberate  is  to  kindle  the 
council-fire  ;  to  cover  the  bones  of  the  dead  is  to  make  reparation 
and  gain  forgiveness  for  the  act  of  killing  them.     A  state  of  war 

and     UiSaSl/Cr    is    tjpmuu    isy     a    uii3,\:ia.    uiutiu.  ,    a    avavc    \^i.   |-rccit.-w>,    tjy 

bright  sunshine,  or  by  an  open  path  between  the  two  nations. 
The  orator  seldom  speaks  without  careful  premeditation  of 


'^I^mtmi 


414 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


In  thi 


strain,  the  orator  of  each  tribe,  in  turn,  ex- 
pressed the  purpose  of  his  people  to  lay  down  their  arms, 
and  live,  for  the  future,  in  friendship  with  the  English. 
Every  deputation  received  a  separate  audience,  and  the 
successive  conferences  were  thus  extended  through 
several  days.  To  each  and  all,  Jk)uquet  made  a  similar 
reply,  in  words  to  the  following  effect  :— 

"  By  your  full  compliance  with  the  conditions  which  I 
imposed,  you   have  satisfied   me  of  your  sincerity,  and  I 
now  receive  you  once  more  as  brethren.     The  king,  my 
master,  has   conmiissioned   me,  not   to  make   treaties  for 
him,  but  to  fight  his  battles;  and  though  I  now  offer  you 
peace,  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  settle  its  precise  terms  and 
conditions.     For  this,  I  refer  you  to  Sir  William  Johnson, 
his  majesty's  agent  and  superintendent  for  Indian  affairs, 
who  will  settle  with  you  the  articles  of  peace,  and  deter- 
mine evei^thing  in  relation  to  trade.     Two  things,  how- 
ever, I  shall   insist  on.     And,  first,  you   are  to  give  hos- 
tages, as  security  that  you  will  preserve  good  fr.ith,  and 
send,  without   delay,  a  deputation  of  your  chiefs  to  Sir 
William  Johnson.     In  the  next  place,  these  chiefs  are  to 
be  fully  empowered  to  treat  in  behalf  of  your  nation,  and 
you   will  bind  yourselves   to  adhere   strictly  to   every 
thing  they  shall  agree  upon  in  your  behalf." 

These  demands  were  readily  complied  with.  Hostages 
were  given,  and  chiefs  appointed  for  the  embassy ;  and 
now,  for  the  first  time.  Bouquet,  to  the  great  relief  of  the 
Indhns,~for  they  doubted  his  intentions,— extended  to 
them  the  hand  of  friendship,  which  he  had  so  long  with- 
held.   A  prominent  chief  of  the  Delawares,  too  proud  to 

what  he  is  about  to  say  ;  and  his  memory  is  refreshed  by  the  belts 
of  wampum,  which  he  delivers  after  every  clause  in  liis  harangue, 
as  a  pledge  of  the  sincerity  and  truth  of  his  words.  These  belts 
are  carefully  preserved  by  the  hearers,  as  a  substitute  for  written 
records  ;  a  use  for  which  tliey  are  the  better  adapted,  as  they  are 
often  worked  with  hieroglyphics  expressing  the  meaning  tliey 
are  designed  to  preserve.  Tims,  at  a  treaty  of  peace,  the  prin- 
-■'I-''  -----v  ^-^^^n  utrtiia  tnc  iiguitjB  oi  an  iuaiau  and  a  white  man 
holdmg  a  chain  between  them. 


THE  SH AW ANOES— THEIR  HAUGHTINESS.       415 


sue  for  peace,  had  refuHod  to  attend  the  council,  on  which 
Bouciuet  ordered  him  to  be  deposed,  and  a  succesHor,  of  a 
less  obdurate  spirit,  installed  in  his  place.  The  Shawa- 
noes  were  the  last  of  the  tribes  admitted  to  a  hearing  ;  and 
the  demeanor  of  their  orator  clearly  evinced  the  haughty 
reluctance  with  which  he  stooped  to  ask  peace  of  his 
mortal  enemies. 

"  When  you  came  among  us,"  such  were  his  concluding 
words,  "  you  came  with  a  hatchet  raised  to  strike  us.  We 
now  take  it  from  your  hand,  and  throw  it  up  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  that  he  may  do  with  it  what  shall  seem 
good  in  his  sight.  We  hope  that  you,  who  are  warriors, 
will  take  hold  of  the  chain  of  friendship  which  we  now 
extend  to  you.  We,  who  are  also  warriors,  will  take  hold 
as  you  do,  and  we  will  think  no  more  of  war,  in  pity  for 
our  ^^^onifiu,  children,  and  old  men."  * 

On  this  occasion,  the  Shawanoe  chiefs,  expressing  a 
hope  for  a  renewal  of  the  friendship  which  in  former  years 
had  subsisted  between  their  people  and  the  English,  dis- 
played tue  dilapidated  parchments  of  several  treaties 
made  between  their  ancestors  and  the  descendants  of  Wil- 
liam  Penn— documents,  some   of   which  had  been  pre- 

*  The  Shawanoe  speaker,  in  expressing  his  intention  of  disarm- 
ing hisi  enemy  by  laying  aside  his  own  designs  of  war,  makes 
use  of  an  unusual  metaphor.  To  bury  the  hatchet  is  the  ligure  in 
common  use  on  such  occasions,  but  he  adopts  a  forni  of  speech 
which  he  regards  as  more  significant  and  emphatic,— that  of 
throAving  it  up  to  the  Great  Spirit.  Unwilling  to  confess  that 
he  yields  through  fear  of  the  enemy,  he  professes  to  wish  for 
peace  merely  for  the  sake  of  his  women  and  children. 

At  the  great  council  at  Lancaster,  in  1762,  a  chief  of  the 
Oneidas,  anxious  to  express,  in  the  strongest  terms,  the  firmness 
of  the  peace  which  had  been  concluded,  had  recourse  to  the  fol- 
lowing singular  figure  :  "  In  the  country  of  the  Oneidas  there  is 
a  great  pine-tree,  so  huge  and  old  that  half  its  branches  are  dead 
with  time.  I  tear  it  up  by  the  roots,  and,  looking  down  into  the 
hole,  I  see  a  dark  stream  of  water,  flowing  with  a  strong  current, 
deep  under  ground.  Into  this  stream  I  fling  the  hatchet,  and  the 
current  sweeps  it  awi\y,  no  man  knows  whither.  Then  I  plant 
the  tree  again  where  it  stood  before,  and  thus  this  war  wili  be 
ended  forever." 


416 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PON'^IAC. 


served  among  them  for   more  than  half  a  century,  with 
all  the  scrupulous  respect  they  are  prone  to  exhibit  for 
such  ancestral  records.     They  were  told,  that,  since  they 
had  not  delivered  all  their  prisoners,  they  could  scarcely 
expect  to  meet  the  same  indulgence  which  had  been  ex- 
tended to  their  brethren;  but  that,  nevertheless,  in  full 
belief  of  their   sincerity,  the   English  would   grant  them 
peace,  on  conditicm  of  their   promising  to  surrender  the 
remaining  captives  early  in  the  following  spring,  and  giving 
up  six  of  their  chiefs  as  hostages.     These  conditions  were 
agreed  to ;  and  it  may  be  added  that,  at  the  appointed 
time,  all  the  prisoners  who  had  been  left  in  their  hands, 
to  the  number  of  a  hundred,  were  brought  in  to  I^rt  Pitt, 
and  delivered  up  to  the  connnanding  officer. 

From  the  hard   formalities  and   rigid   self-contrcl  of 
an  Indian  council-house,  where  the   struggles    of   fear, 
rage,  and  hatred  were  deep  buried  beneath  a  surface  of 
iron  immobility,  we  turn  to  scenes  of  a  widely  different 
nature ;  an  exhibition  of  mingled  and  contrasted  passions, 
more  worthy  the  pen  of  the  dramatist  than  of  the  histo- 
rian, who,  restricted  to  the  meagre  outline   of  recorded 
authority,  can  reflect  but  a  feeble   image  of  the  truth. 
In   the  ranks  of  the  Pennsylvania  troops,  and  among 
the   Virginia   riflemen,  were  the  fathers,  brothers,   and 
husbands  of  those  whose  rescue  from  captivity  was  a  chief 
object  of  the  march.     Ignorant  of  what  had    befallen 
them,  and  doubtful  whether  they  were  yet  among    the 
living,  these  men  had  joine4  the  army,  in  the  feverish  hope 
of   winning  them  back  to  home  and  civilization.    Perhaps 
those  whom  they  sought  had  perished  by  the  elaborate 
torments  of  the  stake ;   perhaps  by  the  more  merciful 
hatchet ;  or  perhaps  they  still  dragged  out  a  wretched 
life  in  the  midst  of  a  savage  horde.    There  were  mstances 
in  which  whole  families  had  been  carried   off  at  once. 
The  old,  the  sick,  or  the  despairing  had  been  tomahawked 
as  useless  encumbrances,  while  the  rest,  pitilessly  forced 
asunder,  were  scattered  throuo-h    pvprv   nnnrf^r  nf  fhp 

-     "O —       -  •  — J        1 —      

wilderness.    It  was  a  strange  and  moving  sight,  when 


SCENER  AT  THE  ENOTJSH  CAMP. 


417 


troop  after  troop  of  prisoners  arrived  in  succession— the 
meeting  of  husbands  with  wives,  and  fathers  with  chil- 
dren, the  reunion  of  broken  families,  long  separated  in 
a  disastrous  captivity;  and  on  the  other  hand,  the 
agonies  of  those  who  learniid  tidings  of  death  and  horror, 
or  groaned  under  the  torture  of  protracted  suspense. 
Women,  frantic  between  hope  and  fear,  were  rushing 
hither  and  thither,  in  search  of  tliose  whose  tender  limbs 
had,  perhaps,  long  since  %ttened  the  cubs  of  the  she 
wolf ;  or  were  pausing  in  an  agony  of  doubt,  before  some 
sunburnt  young  savage,  who,  startled  at  the  haggard  ap- 
parition, shrank  from  his  forgotten  parent,  and  clung  to 
the  tawny  breast  of  his  adopted  mother.  Others  were 
divided  between  delight  and  anguish :  on  the  one  hand, 
the  joy  of  an  unexpected  recognition ;  and  on  the  other, 
the  misery  of  realized  fears,  or  the  more  intolerable  pangs 
of  doubos  not  yet  resolved.  Of  all  the  spectators  of  this 
tragic  drama,  few  were  obdurate  enough  to  stiind  ui.- 
moved.  The  roughest  soldiers  felt  the  contagious  sym- 
pathy, and  softened  into  unwonted  tenderness. 

Among  the  children  brought  in  for  surrender,  there 
were  some,  who,  captured  several  years  before,  as  early, 
perhaps,  as  the  French  war,  had  lost  every  recollection  of 
friends  and  home.  Terrified  by  the  novel  sights  axon  id 
them,  by  the  flash  and  glitter  of  arms,  and,  above  all,  by 
the  strange  complexion  of  the  pale-faced  warriors,  they 
screamed  and  struggled  lustily  when  consigned  to  the 
hands  of  their  relatives.  There  were  young  women,  too, 
who  had  become  the  partners  of  Indian  husbands,  and 
now,  with  all  their  hy  "Id  offspring,  were  led  reluctantly 
into  the  presence  of  fathers  or  brothers,  whose  impges  were 
almost  blotted  from  their  memory.  They  stood  agitated 
and  bewildered,  the  revival  of  old  affections,  and  the 
rush  of  dormant  memories,  painfully  contending  with 
more  recent  attachments,  and  the  shame  of  their  real  or 
fancied  disgrace;  while  their  Indian  lords  looked  on, 
scarcely  less  moved  than  they,  yet  hardening  themselves 
with  savage  stoicism,  and  standing  in  the  midst  of  their 
27 


iilM'i 


1,1  ifl 


^««**^»*'»S«««i^aw*^SSts»^^^ 


418 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


enemies,  imperturbable  as  statues  of  bronze.  These 
women  were  compelled  to  return  with  their  children  to 
the  settlements ;  yet  they  all  did  so  with  reluctance,  and 
several  afterwards  made  their  escape,  eagerly  hastening 
back  to  their  warrior  husbands,  and  the  toils  and  vicis- 
situdes of  an  Indian  wigwam.* 

Day  after  day  brought  fresh  renewals  of  these  scenes, 
deepening  in  interest  as  they  drew  towards  their  close.  A 
few  individual  incidents  have  been  recorded  and  pre- 
served. A  young  Virginian,  robbed  of  his  wife  but  a  few 
months  before,  had  volunteered  in  the  expedition  with 
the  faint  hope  of  recovering  her,  and,  after  long  suspense, 
had  recognized  her  among  a  troop  of  prisoners,  bearing  in 
her  arms  a  child  born  during  her  captivity.  But  the  joy 
of  the  meeting  was  bitterly  alloyed  by  the  loss  of  a  former 
child,  noli  two  years  old,  captured  with  the  mother,  but 
soon  taken  from  her,  and  carried  she  could  not  tell 
whither.  Days  passed  on ;  they  could  learn  no  tidings  of 
its  fate,  and  the  mother,  harrowed  with  terrible  im- 
aginations, was  almost  driven  to  despair,  when,  at  length, 
she  discovered  her  child  in  the  arms  of  an  Indian  warrior, 
and  snatched  it  with  an  irrepressible  cry  of  transport. 

When  the  army,  on  its  homeward  march,  reached  the 
town  of  Carlisle,  those  who  had  been  unable  to  follow 
the  expedition  came  thither  in  numbers,  to  inquire  for  the 
friends  they  had  lost.    Among  the  rest  was  an  old  woman, 

*  Penn.  Hist.  Col.  267.  Haz.  Pa.  Reg.  IV.  390.  M'Culloch.  Nar- 
rative. M'Culloch  was  one  of  the  prisoners  surrendered  to  Bou- 
quet. His  narrative  first  appeared  in  a  pamphlet  form,  and  has 
since  been  republislied  in  the  Incidents  of  Border  Warfare,  and 
other  similar  collections.  The  autobiography  of  Mary  Jemison, 
a  woman  captured  by  the  Senecas  during  the  French  war,  and 
twice  married  among  them,  contains  an  instance  of  attacliment 
to  Indian  life  similar  to  those  mentioned  above.  After  the  con- 
clusion of  hostilities,  learning  that  she  was  to  be  given  up  to  tlie 
whites,  in  accordance  with  a  treaty,  she  escaped  into  the  woods 
with  her  half-breed  children,  and  remained  hidden,  in  great 
-dismay  and  agitation,  until  the  search  was  over.  She  lived  to 
an  advanced  age,  but  never  lost  her  attachment  to  the  Indian 
life. 


SCENES  AT  THE  ENGLISH  CAMP. 


419 


whose  daughter  had  been  carried  off  nine  years  before. 
In  the  crowd  of  female  captives,  she  discovered  one  in 
whose  wild  and  swarthy  features  she  discerned  the 
altered  lineaments  of  her  child ;  but  the  girl,  who  had 
almost  forgotten  her  native  tongue,  returned  no  answering 
sign  of  recognition  to  her  eager  words,  and  the  old 
woman  bitterly  complained  that  the  daughter,  whom  she 
had  so  often  sung  to  sleep  on  her  knee,  had  forgotten  her 
in  her  old  age.  The  humanity  of  Bouquet  suggested  an 
expedient.  "  Sing  the  song  that  you  used  to  sing  to  her 
when  a  child."  The  old  woman  obeyed,  and  a  sudden  start, 
a  look  of  bewilderment,  and  a  passionate  flood  of  tears, 
removed  every  doubt,  and  restored  the  long- lost  daughter 
to  her  mother's  arms. 

The  tender  affections  by  no  means  form  a  salient  feature 
in  the  Indian  character.  They  hold  them  in  contempt, 
and  scorn  every  manifestation  of  them ;  yet,  on  this 
occasion,  they  would  not  be  repressed,  and  the  human 
heart  betrayed  itself,  though  throbbing  undc:  a  brc  ast- 
plate  of  ice.  None  of  the  ordinary  signs  of  emotion, 
neither  tears,  words,  nor  looks,  declared  how  greatly 
they  were  moved.  It  was  by  their  kindness  and  solicitude, 
by  their  attention  to  the  wants  of  the  captives,  by  their 
offers  of  furs,  garments,  the  choicest  articles  of  food,  and 
everything  which  in  their  eyes  seemed  luxury,  that 
they  displayed  their  sorrow  at  parting  from  their  adopted 
relatives  and  friends.  Some  among  them  went  much 
farther,  and  asked  permission  to  follow  the  army  on  its 
homeward  march,  that  they  might  hunt  for  the  captives, 
and  supply  them  with  better  food  than  the  military 
stores  could  furnish.  A  young  Seneca  warrior  had  be- 
come deeply  enamoured  of  a  Virginian  girl.  At  great 
risk  of  his  life,  he  accompanied  the  troops  far  within  the 
limits  of  the  settlements,  and,  at  every  night's  encamp- 
ment, approaching  the  quarters  of  the  captives  as  closely 
as  the  sentinels  would  permit,  he  sat  watching,  with 
patient  vigilance,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  lost  mistress. 

The  Indian  women,  whom  no  idea  of  honor  compels  to 


420 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


wear  an  iron  mask,  were  far  from  emulating  the  frigid 
aspect  of  their  lords.  ^11  day  they  ran  wailing  through 
the  camp ;  and,  when  night  came,  the  hills  and  woods 
resounded  with  their  dreary  lamentations. 

The  word  prisoner,  as  applied  to  captives  taken  by  the 
Indians,  is  a  misnomer,  and  conveys  a  wholly  false  impres- 
sion of  their  situation  and  treatment.     When  the  venge- 
ance of  the  conquerors  is  sated,  when  they  have  shot, 
stabbed,  burned,  or  beaten  to  death,  enough  to  satisfy  the 
shades  of  their  departed  relatives,  they  usually  treat  those 
who  survive  their  wrath  with  moderation  and  humanity, 
often  adopting  them  to  supply  the  place  of  lost  brothers, 
husbands,  or  children,  whose  names  are  given  to  the  suc- 
cessors thus  substituted  in  their  place.     By  a  formal  cere- 
mony, the  white  blood  is  washed  from  their  veins,  and 
they  are  ,regarded  thenceforth  as  members  of  the  tribe, 
faring  equally  with  the  rest  in  prosperity  or  adversity,  in 
famine  or  abundance.     When  children  are  adopted  in  this 
manner  by  Indian  women,  they  nurture  them  with  the 
same  tenderness  and  indulgence  which  they  extend,  in  a 
remarkable   degree,  to   their   own   offspring;  and   such 
young  women  as  will  not  marry  an  Indian  husband  are 
treated  with  a  singular  forbearance,  in  which  superstition, 
natural  temperament,  and  a  sense  of  right  and  justice  may 
all  claim  a  share.     The  captive,  unless  he  excites  suspi- 
cion by  his  conduct,  or  exhibits  peculiar  contumacy,  is 
left  with  no  other  restraint  than  his  own  free  will.    The 
warrior  who  captured  hira,  or  to  whom  he  was  assigned 
in  the  division  of  the  spoil,  sometimes  claims,  it  is  true, 
a  certain  right  of  property  in  him,  to  the  exclusion  of 
others ;  but  this  claim  is  soon  forgotten,  and  seldom  exer- 
cised to  the  inconvenience  of  the  captive,  who  has  no 
other  prison  than  the  earth,  the  air,  and  the  forest.*    Fi\  e 

*  The  captives  among  the  Shawanoes  of  the  Scioto  had  most 
of  them  been  recently  taken  ;  and  only  a  small  part  had  gone 
through  the  ceremony  of  adoption.  Hence  it  was  that  the  war- 
riors, in  their  desperation,  formed  the  desio-n  of  nuttin"-  them  to 
death,  fearing  that,  in  the  attack  which  they  meditated^  the  cap- 
tives would  naturally  take  part  with  their  countrymen. 


I   I 


THE  FOREST  LIFE. 


421 


hundred  miles  of  wilderness,  beset  with  diflBculty  and 
danger,  are  the  sole  bars  to  his  escape,  should  he  desire  to 
effect  it ;  but,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  this  wish  is  apt 
to  expire  in  his  heart,  and  he  often  remains  to  the  end  of 
his  life  a  contented  denizen  of  the  woods. 

Among  the  captives  brought  in  for  delivery  were  some 
bound  fsst  to  prevent  their  escape  ;  and  many  others,  who, 
amid  the  general  tumult  of  joy  and  sorrow,  sat  sullen  and 
scowling,  angry  that  they  were  forced  to  abandon  the  wild 
license  of  the  forest  for  the  irksome  restraints  of  society. 
Thus,  to  look  back  with  a  fond  longing  to  inhospitable 
deserts,  where  men,  beasts,  and  Nature  herself,  seem  ar- 
rayed in  arms,  and  where  ease,  security,  and  all  that  civil- 
ization reckons  among  the  goods  of  life,  are  alike  cut  off 
may  appear  to  argue  some  strange  perversity  or  moral 
malformation.    Yet  such  has  been  the  experience  of  many 
a  sound  and  healthful  mind.    To  him  who  has  once  tasted 
the  reckless  independence,  the  haughty  self-reliance,  the 
sense  of  irresponsible  freedom,  which  the  forest  life  engen- 
ders, civilization  thenceforth  seems  fiat  and  stale.    Its 
pleasures  are  insipid,  its  pursuits  wearisome,  its  conven- 
tionalities, duties,  and  mutual  dependence  alike  tedious  and 
disgusting.     The  entrapped  wanderer  grows  fierce   and 
restless,  and  pants  for  breathing-room.  His  path,  it  is  true, 
was  choked  with  difficulties,  but  his  body  and  soul  were 
hardened  to  meet  them ;  it  was  beset  with  dangers,  but 
these  were  the  very  spice  of  his  life,  gladdening  his  heart 
with  exulting  self-confidence,   and    sending    the  blood 
through  his  veins  with  a  livelier  current.     The  wilderness, 
rough,  harsh,  and  inexorable,  has  charms  more  potent  in 
their  seductive  influence  than  all  the  lures  of  luxury  and 
sloth.     And  often  he  on  whom  it  has  cast  its  magic  finds 
no  heart  to  dissolve  the  spell,  and  remains  a  wanderer 
and  an  Ishmaelite  to  the  hour  of  his  death.* 

*  Golden,  after  describing  the  Indian  wars  of  1699,  1700,  con- 
cludes in  the  following  words:— 

"  I  shall  finish  this  Part  by  observing  that  notwithstanding  the 
French  Commissioners  took  all  the  Pains  possible  to  carry  Home 


mil 


422 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


There  is  a  chord,  in  the  breasts  of  most  men,  prompt 
to  answer  loudly  or  faintly,  as  the  case  may  be,  to  such 
rude  appeals.  But  there  is  influence  of  another  sort, 
strongest  with  minds  of  the  finest  texture,  yet  sometimes 
holding  a  controlling  power  over  those  who  neither  ac- 
knowledge nor  suspect  its  workings.  There  are  few  so 
imbruted  by  vice,  so  perverted  by  art  and  luxury,  as  to 
dwell  in  the  closest  presence  of  Nature,  deaf  to  her  voice 
of  melody  and  power,  untouched  by  the  ennobling  in- 
fluences  which  mould  and  penetrate  the  heart  that  has 
not  hardened  itself  against  them.  Into  the  spirit  of  such 
an  one  the  mountain  wind  breathes  its  own  freshness,  and 
the  midsummer  tempest,  as  it  rends  the  forest,  pours  its 
own  fierce  energy.  His  thoughts  flow  with  the  placid 
stream  of  the  broad,  deep  river,  or  dance  in  light  with  the 
sparkling  i^urrent  of  the  mountain  brook.    No  passing 


the  French  that  were  Prisoners  with  the  Five  Nations,  and  they 
had  full  Liberty  from  the  Indians,  few  of  them  could  be  per- 
suaded to  return.     It  may  be  thought  that  this  was  occasioned 
from  the  Hardships  they  had   endured  in  their  own  Country, 
under  a  tyrannical  Government  and  a  barren  Soil.    But  tliis  cer- 
tainly was  not  the  Reason,  for  the  English  had  as  much  Difficulty 
to  persuade  the  People  that  had   been  taken   Prisoners  by  the 
French  Indians  to  leave  the  Indian  Manner  of  living,  though  no 
People  enjoy  more  Liberty,  and  live  in  greater  Plenty  than  the 
common  Inhabitants  of  New  York  do.  No  Arguments,  no  Intrea- 
tiesi  nor  Tears  of  their  Friends  and  Relations,  could  persuade  many 
of  them  to  leave  their  new  Jndian  Friends  and  Acquaintance. 
Several  of  tliem  that  were  by  the  Caressings  of  their  Relations, 
persuaded  to  come  Home,  in  a  little  Time  grew  tired  of  our  Man- 
ner of  living,  and  ran  away  to  the  Indians,  and  ended  their  Days 
with  them.    On  the  other  Hand,   Indian  Children  have  been 
carefully  educated  among  the  English,  clothed  and  taught ;  yet 
I  think,  there  is  not  one  Instance  that  any  of  these,  after  they 
had  Liberty  to  go  among  their  own  People,  and  were  come  to 
Age,  would  remain  with  the  English,  but  returned  to  their  own 
Nations,    but   became  as    fond  of  the  Indian  Manner  of  Life 
as  those  that  knew  nothing  of  a  civilized  Manner  of  living. 

• ~ "  v,-'»».CTi.itxti  iiiouiicis  uiuuiig   iuuians  reiaies 

not  only  to  what  happened  at  the  Conclusion  of  this  War,  but 
has  been  found  true  on  many  other  Occasions."— Colden,  203. 


RETURN  OF  THE  EXPEDITION. 


423 


mood  or  fancy  of  his  mind  but  has  its  image  and  its  echo 
in  the  wild  world  around  him.  There  is  softness  in  the 
mellow  air,  the  warm  sunshine  and  the  budding  leaves  of 
spring;  and  in  the  forest  flower,  which  more  delicate 
than  the  pampered  offspring  of  gardens,  lifts  its  tender 
head  through  the  refuse  and  decay  of  the  wilderness. 
But  it  is  the  grand  and  heroic  in  the  hearts  of  men  which 
finds  its  worthiest  symbol  and  noblest  inspiration  amid 
these  desert  realms,— in  the  mountain,  rearing  its  savage 
head  through  clouds  and  sleet,  or  basking  its  majestic 
strength  in  the  radiance  of  the  sinking  sun ;  in  the 
interminable  forest,  the  thunder  booming  over  its  lonely 
waste,  the  whirlwind  tearing  through  its  inmost  depths,  or 
the  sun  at  length  setting  in  gorgeous  majesty  beyond  its 
waves  of  verdure.  To  the  sick,  the  wearied,  or  the  sated 
spirit,  nature  opens  a  theatre  of  boundless  life,  and  holds 
forth  a  cup  brimming  with  redundant  pleasure.  In  the 
other  joys  of  existence,  fear  is  balanced  against  hope,  and 
satiety  against  delight ;  but  here  one  may  fearlessly  drink, 
gaining,  with  every  draught,  new  vigor  and  a  heightened 
zest,  and  finding  no  dregs  of  bitterness  at  the  bottom. 

Having  accomplished  its  work,  the  army  left  the  Mus- 
kingum, and,  retracing  its  former  course,  arrived  at  Fort 
Pitt  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  November,  The  recovered 
captives  were  sent  to  their  respective  homes  in  Pennsyl- 
vania or  Virginia ;  and  the  provincial  troops  disbanded, 
not  without  warm  praises  for  the  hardihood  and  steadi- 
ness with  which  they  had  met  the  difficulties  of  the  cam- 
paign. The  happy  issue  of  the  expedition  spread  joy 
throughout  the  country.  At  the  next  session  of  the 
Pennsylvania  Assembly,  one  of  its  first  acts  was  to  pass 
a  vote  of  thanks  to  Colonel  Bouquet,  expressing  in  the 
most  earnest  terms  their  sense  of  his  services  and  personal 
merits,  and  conveying  their  acknowledgments  for  the  re- 
gard which  he  had  constantly  shown  to  the  civil  rights 
of  the  inha,bitfl,nts.      Thf»    Asspinhlv  nf  Virorinia  t\qooo/1  q 

similar  vote ;  and  both  houses  concurred  in  recommending 
Bouquet  to  the  king  for  promotion.    Such  recommenda- 


424 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


tion  proved  superfluous,  for,  on  the  first  news  of  his  suc- 
cess, Bouquet  had  been  appointed  to  the  rank  of  brigadier, 
and  the  command  of  the  southern  department.  "  And," 
concludes  Hutchins,  the  chronicler  of  the  campaign,  « as 
he  js  rendered  as  dear  by  his  private  virtues  to  those  who 
have  the  honor  of  his  more  intimate  acquaintance  as  he 
is  by  his  military  services  to  the  public,  it  is  hoped  he 
may  long  continue  among  us,  where  his  experienced  abil- 
ities will  enable  him,  and  his  love  of  the  English  constitu- 
tion entitle  him,  to  fill  any  future  trust  to  which  his 
majesty  may  be  pleased  to  call  him."  This  hope  was  not 
destined  to  fulfilment.  Within  three  years  after  his  re- 
turn from  the  Muskingum,  he  was  attacked  with  a  fever 
at  Pensacola,  which  closed,  by  a  premature  death,  the 
career  of  a  gallant  soldier  and  a  generous  man. 

The  Delawares  and  Shawanoes,  mindful  of  their  en- 
gagement and  oi  the  hostages  which  they  had  given  to 
keep  it,  sent  their  deputies,  within  the  appointed  time, 
to  8ir  William  Johnson,  who  concluded  a  treaty  with 
them,  stipulating,  among  the  other  terms,  that  they  should 
grant  free  passage  through  their  country  to  English  troops 
and  travellers ;  that  they  should  make  full  restitution  for 
the  goods  taken  from  the  traders  at  the  breaking  out  of 
the  war ;  and  that  they  should  aid  their  triumphant  ene- 
mies in  the  difficult  task  which  yet  remained  to  be  accom- 
plished—that of  taking  possession  of  the  Illinois,  and  oc- 
cupying its  posts  and  settlements  with  British  troops. 


CHAPTER  XXVIU. 


THE    ILLINOIS. 


We  turn  to  a  region  of  which,  as  yet,  we  have  caught 
but  transient  glimpses  ;  a  region  which  to  our  forefathers 
seemed  remote  and  strange,  as  to  us  the  mountain  strong- 
holds of  the  Apaches,  or  the  wastes  of  farthest  Oregon. 
The  country  of  the  Illinois  was  chiefly  embraced  within 
the  boundaries  of  the  state  which  now  retains  the  name. 
Thitherward,  from  the  east,  the  west,  and  the  north,  three 
mighty  rivers  rolled  their  tributary  waters ;  while  count- 
less smaller  streams — small  only  in  comparison — traversed 
the  land  with  a  watery  network,  impregnating  the  warm 
soil  with  exuberant  fecundity.  From  the  eastward,  the 
Ohio — La  Belle  Riviere — pursued  its  windings  for  more 
than  a  thousand  miles.  The  Mississippi  descended  from 
the  distant  north  ;  while  from  its  fountains  in  the  west, 
three  thousand  miles  away,  the  Missouri  poured  its  torrent 
towards  the  same  common  centre.  Born  among  moun- 
tains, trackless  even  now,  except  by  the  adventurous  foot- 
step of  the  trapper, — nurtured  amid  the  howling  of  beasts 
and  the  war-cries  of  savages,  never  silent  in  that  wilder- 
ness,— it  holds,  its  angry  course  through  sun- scorched 
deserts,  among  towers  and  palaces,  the  architecture  of  no 
human  hand,  among  lodges  of  barbarian  hordes,  and  herds 
of  bison  blackening  the  prairie  to  the  horizon.  Fierce, 
reckless,  headstrong,  exulting  in  its  tumultuous  force,  it 
plays  a  thousand  freaks  of  wanton  power ;  bearing  away 
forests  from  its  shores,  and  planting  them,  with  roots  up- 
permost, in  its  quicksands ;  sweeping  off  islands,  and  re- 
building them  ;  frothing  and  raging  in  foam  and  whirlpool, 
nnH    acrai-n   orliHinor  \xr\ih  dwinrllprl  nnrrent  nlonc  its  sandy 

channel.    At  length,  dark  with  uncurbed  fury,  it  pours 

425 


iiiljiiinii 


426 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


its  muddy  tide  into  the  reluctant  Mississippi.  Tiiat 
majestic  river,  drawing  life  from  the  pure  fountains  of 
the  north,  wandering  among  emerald  prairies  and  wood- 
crowned  bluffs,  loses  all  its  earlier  charm  with  this  unhal- 
lowed union.  At  first,  it  shrinks  as  with  repugnance, 
and  along  the  same  channel  the  two  streams  flow  side  by 
side,  with  unmingled  waters.  But  the  disturbing  power 
prevails  at  length  :  and  the  united  torrent  bears  onward 
in  its  might,  boiling  up  from  the  bottom,  whirling  in  many 
a  vortex,  flooding  its  shores  with  a  malign  deluge  fraught 
with  pestilence  and  fever,  and  burying  forests  in  its 
depths,  to  insnare  the  heedless  voyager.  Mightiest  among 
rivers,  it  is  the  connecting  link  of  adverse  climates  and 
contrasted  races ;  and  while  at  its  northern  source  the 
fur-clad  Indian  shivers  in  the  cold,~where  it  mingles 
with  th^  ocean,  the  growth  of  the  tropics  springs  along 
its  banks,  and  the  panting  negro  cools  his  limbs  in  its  re- 
freshing waters. 

To  these  great  rivers  and  their  tributary  streams 
the  country  of  the  ^llinois  owed  its  wealth,  its  grassy 
prairies,  and  the  stately  woods  that  flourished  on  its  deep, 
rich  soil.  This  prolific  land  teemed  with  life.  It  was  a 
hunter's  paradise.  Deer  grazed  on  its  meadows.  The 
elk  trooped  in  herds,  like  squadrons  of  cavalry.  In  the 
still  morning,  one  might  hear  the  clatter  of  their  antlers 
for  half  a  mile  over  the  dewy  prairie.  Countless  bison 
roamed  the  plains,  filing  in  grave  procession  to  drink  at 
the  rivers,  plunging  and  -snorting  among  the  rapids  and 
quicksands,  rolling  their  huge  bulk  on  the  grass,  or  rush- 
ing upon  each  other  in  hot  encounter,  like  champions 
under  shield.  The  wildcat  glared  from  the  thicket ;  the 
raccoon  thrust  his  furry  countenance  from  the  hollow 
tree,  and  the  opossum  swung,  head  downwards,  from  the 
overhanging  bough. 

With  the  opening  spring,  when  the  forests  are  budding 
into  leaf,  and  the  prairies  gemmed  with  flowers  ;  when  a 
vvcixiii,  icixiii;  liiiz-c  iuSoK  upuii  i/iiu  laiiuscape, — men  heart 
and  senses  are  enthralled  ^vith  luxurious  beauty.    The 


1 1 


THE  ILLINOIS. 


427 


shrubs  and  wild  fruit-trees,  flushed  with  pale  red  blos- 
soms, and  the  small  clustering  flowers  of  grape-vines, 
which  ioke  the  gigantic  trees  with  Laocoon  writhings, 
fill  the  forest  with  their  rich  perfume.  A  few  days  later, 
and  a  cloud  of  verdure  overshadows  the  land,  while  birds 
innumerable  sing  beneath  its  canopy,  and  brighten  its 
shades  with  their  glancing  hues. 

Yet  this  western  paradise  is  not  free  from  the  curse  of 
Adam.  The  beneficent  sun,  which  kindles  into  life  so 
many  forms  of  loveliness  and  beauty,  fails  not  to  engen- 
der venom  and  death  from  the  rank  slime  of  pestilential 
swamp  and  marsh.  In  some  stagnant  pool,  buried  in  the 
jungle-like  depths  of  the  forest,  where  the  hot  and  life- 
less water  reeks  with  exhalations,  the  water-snake  basks 
by  the  margin,  or  winds  his  checkered  length  of  loath- 
some beauty  across  the  sleepy  surface.  From  beneath 
the  rotten  carcass  of  some  fallen  tree,  the  moccason 
thrusts  out  his  broad  flat  head,  ready  to  dart  on  the  in- 
truder. On  the  dry,  sun-scorched  prairie,  the  rattle- 
snake, a  more  generous  enemy  reposes  in  his  spiral  coil. 
He  scorns  to  shun  the  eye  of  day,  as  if  conscious  of  the 
honor  accorded  to  his  name  by  the  warlike  race,  who, 
jointly  with  him,  claim  lordship  over  the  land.*     But 

*  The  superstitious  veneration  which  the  Indians  entertain  for 
the  rattlesnake  has  been  before  alluded  to.  The  Cherokees  chris- 
tened him  by  a  name  which,  being  interpreted,  signifies  the 
bright  old  inhabitants,  a  title  of  affectionate  admiration  of  which 
his  less  partial  acquaintance  would  hardly  judge  him  worthy. 

"  Between  the  heads  of  the  northern  bi'anch  of  the  Lower 
Cheerake  River,  and  the  heads  of  that  of  Tuckaschchee,  wind- 
ing round  in  a  long  course  by  the  late  Fort  Loudon,  and 
afterwards  into  the  Mississippi,  there  is,  both  in  the  nature  and 
circumstances,  a  great  phenomenon.  Between  two  high  moun- 
tains, nearly  covered  with  old  mossy  rocks,  lofty  cedars  and 
pines,  in  the  valleys  of  which  the  beams  of  the  sun  reflect  a 
powerful  heat,  there  are,  as  the  natives  affirm,  some  bright  old 
inhabitants,  or  rattlesnakes,  of  a  more  enormous  size  than  is 
mentioned  in  history.  They  are  so  large  and  unwieldy,  that  they 
take  a  circle  almost  as  wide  as  their  length,  to  crawl  round  in 
their  shortest  orbit ;  but  bountiful  nature  compensates  the  heavy 
motion  of  their  bodies  ;  for,  as   they  say,  no  living  creature 


mmmmmmm. 


428 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


some  intrusive  footstep  awakes  liim  from  his  slumbers. 
His  neck  is  arched ;  the  white  fangs  gleam  in  his  dis- 
tended jaws;  his  small  eyes  dart  rays  of  unutterable 
fierceness;  and  his  rattles,  Invisible  with  their  quick 
vibration,  ring  the  sharp  warning  which  no  man  will 
rashly  contemn. 

The  land  thus  prodigal  of  good  and  evil,  so  remote 
from  the  sea,  so  primitive  in  its  asjicct,  might  well  be 
deemed  an  undiscovered  region,  ignorant  of  European 
arts ;  yet  it  may  boast  a  coloniz.ation  as  old  as  that  of 
many  a  spot  to  which  are  accorded  tlie  scanty  honors  of 
an  American  antiquity.  The  earliest  settlement  of  Penn- 
sylvania was  made  in  1G81 ;  the  first  occupation  of  the 
Illinois  took  place  in  the  previous  year.  La  Salle  may  be 
called  the  father  of  the  colony.  That  remarkable  man 
entered  tVie  country  with  a  handful  of  followers,  bent  on 
his  grand  scheme  of  Mississippi  discovery.  A  legion  of 
enemies  rose  in  his  path ;  but  neither  delay,  disappoint- 
ment, sicknes^  mine,  open  force,  nor  secret  conspiracy, 
could  bend  his  boul  of  iron.  Disasters  accumulated  upon 
him.  He  flung  them  off,  and  still  pressed  forward  to  his 
object.  His  victorious  energy  bore  all  before  it,  but  the 
success  on  which  he  had  staked  his  life  served  only  to 
entail  fresh  calamity,  and  an  untimely  death;  and  his 
best  reward  is,  that  his  name  stands  forth  in  history  an 
imperishable  monument  of  heroic  constancy.  When  on 
his  way  to  the  Mississippi  in  the  year  1680,  La  Salle  built 
a  fort  in  the  comitry  of  the  Illinois,  and,  on  his  return 
from  the  mouth  of  the  great  river,  some  of  his  followers 
remained,  and  established  themselves  near  the  spot. 
Heroes  of  another  stamp  took  up  the  work  which  the 
daring  Norman  had  begun.    Jesuit  missionaries,  among 

moves  within  the  reach  of  their  sight,  but  they  can  draw  it  to 
them  ;  which  is  agreeable  to  what  we  observe  through  the  whole 
system  of  animated  beings.  Nature  endues  them  with  proper 
capacities  to  sustain  life  :  as  they  cannot  support  themselves  by 
their  speed  or  cunning,  to  spring  from  an  ambuscade,  it  is  need- 
ful they  should  have  the  bewitcliing  craft  of  their  eyes  and 
forked  tongues." — Adair,  237. 


ITS  EARLY  COLONIZATION. 


429 


the  beat  and  purest  of  their  order,  burning  with  zeal  for 
the  salvation  of  souls,  and  the  gaining  of  an  immortal 
crown,  here  toiled  and  suffered,  with  a  self-sacrificing 
devotion,  which  extorts  a  tribute  of  admiration  even  from 
sectiirian  bigotry.     While  the  colder  apostles  of  Protes- 
tantism labored  upon  the  outskirts  of  heathendom,  these 
champions  of  the  cross,  the  forlorn  hope  of  the  army  ot 
Rome,  pierced  to  the  heart  of  its  dark  and  dreary  domain, 
confronting  death  at  every  step,  and  well  repaid  for  all, 
could  they  but  sprinkle  a  few  drops  of  water  on  the  fore- 
head of  a  dying  child,  or  hang  a  gilded  crucifix  round  the 
neck  of  some  warrior,  pleased  with  the  glittering  trinket. 
With  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  black 
robe  of  the  Jesuit  was  known  in  every  village  of  the  Illi- 
nois.   Defying  the  wiles  of  Satan  and  the  malice  of  his 
emissaries  the  Indian  sorcerers,  exposed  to  the  rage  of 
the  elements,  and  every  casualty  of  forest  life,  they  fol- 
lowed their  wandering    proselytes  to    war  and  to  the 
chase;   now  wading    through    morasses,  now    dragging 
canoes  over  rapids  and  sand-bars;   now  scorched  with 
heat  on  the  sweltering  prairie,  and  now  shivering  house- 
less in  the  blasts  of  January.     At  Kaskaskia  and  Cahokia 
they  established  missions,  and  built  frail  churches  from 
the  bark  of  trees,  lit  emblems  of  their  own  transient  and 
futile  labors.    Morning  and  evening,  the  suvage  worship- 
pers sang  praises  to  the  Virgin,  and  knelt  in  supplication 
before  the  shrine  of  St.  Joseph. 

Soldiers  and  fur- traders  followed  where  these  pioneer; 
of  the  church  had  led  the  way.  Forts  were  built  here 
and  there  throughout  the  country,  and  the  cabins  of 
settlers  clustered  about  the  mission-houses.  The  new 
colonists,  emigrants  from  Canada  or  disbanded  soldiers  of 
French  regiments,  bore  a  close  resemblance  to  the  settlers 
of  Detroit,  or  the  primitive  people  of  Acadia,  whose  sim- 
ple life  poetry  has  chosen  as  an  appropriate  theme.  The 
Creole  of  the  Illinois,  contented,  light-hearted,  and  thrift- 
less, by  no  means  fulfilled  the  injunction  to  iiiciease  and 
multiply,  and  the  colony  languished  in  spite  of  the  fertile 


^ui,waiii.fl'i,i* 


430 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


soil.     The  people  labored  long  enough  to  gain  a  bare  sub- 
sistence for  each  passing  day,  anU  spent  the  rest  of  their 
time  in  dancing  and  merry-making,  smoking,  gossiping, 
and  hunting.     Their  native  gayety  was  irrepressible,  and 
they  found  means  to  stimulatt)  it  with  wine  made  from 
the  fruit  of  the  wild  grape-vines.     Thus  they  passed  their 
days,  at  peace  with  themselves,  hand  and  glove  with  their 
Indian  neighbors,  and  ignorant  of  all  the  world  beside. 
Money  was  scarcely  known  among  them.     Skins  and  furs 
were  the  prevailing  currency,  and  in  every  village  a  great 
portion  of  the  land  was  held  in  common.     The  military 
commandant,  whose  station  was  at  Fort  Chartres,  on  the 
Mississippi,  ruled  the  colony  with  a  sway  absolute  as  that 
of  the  Pacha  of  Egypt,   and  judged  civil  and  criminal 
cases  without  right  of  appeal.     Yet  his  power  was  exer- 
cised in  a>  patriarchal  spirit,  and  he  usually  commanded 
the  respect  and  confidence  of  the  people.    Many  years 
later,  when,  after  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  the  Illinois 
came  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  United  States,  the  per- 
plexed inhabitants,  totally  at  a  loss  to  understand  the 
complicated  machinery  of  republicanism,  begged  to  be 
delivered  from  the  intolerable  burden  of  self-government, 
and  to  be  once  more  subjected  to  a  military  commandant. 
The  Creole  is  as  unchanging  in  his  nature  and  habits 
as  the  Indian  himself.     Even  at  this  day,  one  may  see, 
along  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  the  same  low-browed 
cottages,  with  their  broad  eaves  and  picturesque  verandas, 
which,  a  century  ago,  were  clustered  around  the  mission- 
house  at  Kaskaskia ;  and,  entering,  one  finds  the  inmate 
the  same  kindly,  honest,  lively,  story-telling,  and  pipe- 
smoking  being  that  his  ancestor  was  before  him.     Yet, 
with  all  his  genial  traits,  the  rough  world  deals  hardly 
with  him.     He  lives  a  mere  drone  in  the  busy  hive  of  an 
American  population.     The  living  tide  encroaches  on  his 
rest,  as  the  muddy  torrent  of  the  great  river  chafes  away 
the  farm  and  homestead  of  his  fathers.     Yet  he  contrives 

days  of  old. 


It 


INDIANS  OF  THE  ILLINOIS. 


431 


At  the  date  of  this  history,  the  population  of  the 
colony,  including  negroes,  who,  in  that  simple  community, 
were  treated  rather  as  humble  friends  than  as  slaves,  did 
not  exceed  two  thousand  souls,  distributed  in  several  small 
settlements.  There  were  about  eighty  Iwuses  in  Kaskas- 
kia,  forty  or  fifty  at  Caliokia,  a  few  at  Vincennes  and 
Fort  Chartres,  and  few  more  scattered  in  small  clusters 
upon  the  various  streams.  The  agricultural  portion  of 
the  colonists  were,  as  we  have  described  them,  marked 
with  many  weaknesses,  and  many  amiable  virtues ;  but 
their  morals  were  not  improved  by  a  large  admixture  of 
fur-traders, — reckless,  hairbrainec'  adventurers,  who, 
happily  for  the  peace  of  their  relatives,  were  absent  on 
their  wfindering  vocation  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
year. 

Swarms  of  vagabond  Indians  infested  the  settlements, 
and,  to  people  of  any  other  character,  they  would  have 
pro .  ed  an  intolerable  annoyance.  But  the  easy-tempered 
Creoles  made  friends  and  comrades  of  them,  ate,  drank, 
smoked,  and  often  married  with  them.  They  were  a  de- 
bauched and  drunken  rabble,  the  remnants  of  that  branch 
of  the  Algonquin  stock  known  among  the  French  as  the 
Illinois,  a  people  once  numerous  and  powerful,  but  now 
miserably  enfeebled,  and  corrupted  by  foreign  wars, 
domestic  dissensions,  and  their  own  licentious  manners. 
They  comprised  the  broken  fragments  of  five  tribes — the 
Kaskaskias,  Cahokias,  Feorias,  Mitchigamias,  and  Tam- 
aronas.  Some  of  their  villages  were  in  the  close  vicinity 
of  the  Creole  settlements.  On  a  hot  summer  morning, 
they  mig!  t  !>•  seen  lounging  about  the  trading-house, 
basking  in  t'.  sun,  begging  for  a  dram  of  whiskey,  or 
chaffering  with  the  hard-featured  trader  for  beads,  to- 
bacco, gunpowder,  and  red  paint. 

About  the  Wabash  and  its  branches,  to  the  eastward 
of  the  Illinois,  dwelt  tribes,  of  similar  lineage,  but  more 
warlike  in  character,  anJ  less  corrupt  in  manners.    These 

•.»r^v'->   ■'-l->--v   "l\TTr>*v>?n      ir>    fV>£\iT»  +V»T»c»£i    rl  1  "i M o  1  rkn Q     fV>oiT»  noOT"    VlTI- 

WCiC     LiiC    iTilailXlO,     iiX     fiiVi^      i.s.lx\j\.-      vii  T  tui-wTiiUj     v.ivii      i.-^«.fi         s»i«i- 

dred,  the  Piankishaws,  and  a  portion  of  the  Kickapoos. 


4o2 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


There  was  another  settlement  of  the  Miamis  upon  the 
River  Maumee,  stiJl  farther  to  the  east;  and  it  was  here 
that  Bradstreet's  ambassador,  Captain  Morris,  had  met  so 
rough  a  welcome.  The  strength  of  these  combined  tribes 
was  very  considerable ;  and,  one  and  all,  they  looked  with 
wrath  and  abhorrence  on  the  threatened  advent  of  the 
English. 


I 


CHAPTEi.  XXIX. 

PONTIAC  RALLIES  THE  WESTERN  TRIBES. 

,  When,  by  the  treaty  of  Paris,  1763,  France  ceded  to 
England  her  territories  east  of  the  Mississippi,  the  Illi- 
nois was  of  course  included  in  the  cession.  Scarcely 
were  the  articles  signed,  when  France,  as  if  eager  to  rob 
herself,  at  one  stroke,  of  all  her  western  domain,  threw 
away  upon  Spain  the  vast  and  indefinite  regions  beyond 
the  Mississippi,  destined  at  a  later  day  to  return  to  her 
hands,  and  finally  to  swell  the  growing  empire  of  the 
United  States.  This  transfer  to  Spain  was  for  some  time 
kept  secret;  but  orders  were  immediately  sent  to  the 
officers  commanding  at  the  French  posts  within  the  ter- 
ritory ceded  to  England,  to  evacuate  the  country  when- 
ever British  troops  should  appear  to  occupy  it.  These 
orders  reached  the  Illinois  towards  the  close  of  1763. 
Some  time,  however,  was  destined  to  elapse  before  the 
English  arrived  to  demand  its  surrender ;  for  the  Indian 
war  was  then  at  its  height,  and  the  country  was  protected 
from  access  by  a  broad  barrier  of  savage  tribes,  in  the 
hottest  ferment  of  hostility. 

The  colonists,  hating  the  English  with  a  more  than 
national  hatred,  deeply  imbittered  by  years  of  disastrous 
war,  received  the  news  of  the  treaty  with  disgust  and  exe- 
cration. Many  of  them  left  the  country,  loath  to  dwell 
under  the  shadow  of  the  British  flag.  Of  these,  some 
crossed  the  Mississippi  to  the  little  hamlet  of  St.  Gene- 
vieve, on  the  western  bank ;  others  followed  the  com- 
mandant, Neyon  de  Villiers,  to  New  Orleans ;  while 
others,  takiner  with  them  all  their  nossessions.  even  to 
the  frames  and  clapboarding  of  their  houses,  passed  the 
28  433 


434 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


river  a  little  above  Cahokia,  and  established  themselves 
at  a  beautiful  spot  on  the  opposite  shore,  where  a  settle- 
ment was  just  then  on  the  point  of  commencement.     Here 
a  line  of  richly- wooded  bluffs  rose  with  easy  ascent  from 
the  margin  of  the  water,  while  from  their  summits  ex- 
tended a  wide  plateau  of  fertile  prairie,  bordered  by  a 
framework  of  forest.     In  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  which 
fringed  the   edge   of  the   declivity,  stood  a  newly-built 
storehouse,  with  a  few  slight  cabins  and  Works  of  de- 
fence, belonging  to  a  company  of  fur-traders.     At  their 
head  was  Pierre  Laclede,  who  had  left  New  Orleans  with 
his  followers  in  August,  1763,  and,  after  toiling  for  three 
months  against  the  impetuous  stream  of  the  Mississippi, 
had  reached  the  Illinois  in  November,  and  selected  the 
spot  alluded  to  as  the  site  of  his  first  establishment.     To 
this  he  gave  the  name  of  St.  Louis.     Side  by  side  with 
Laclede,  in  his  adventurous  enterprise,  was  a  young  man, 
slight  in  person,  but  endowed  with  a  vigor  and  elasticity 
of  frame  which  could  resist  heat  or  cold,  fatigue,  hunger, 
or  the  wasting  hand  of  time.     Not  all  the  magic  of  a 
dream,  nor  the  enchai)tments  of  an  Arabian  tale,  could 
outmatch  the  waking  realities  destined  to  rise  upon  the 
vision  of  Pierre  Chouteau.     Where,  in  his  youth,  he  had 
climbed  the  woody  bluft',  and  looked  abroad  on  prairies 
dot^pd  with  bison,  he  saw,  with  the  dim  eye  of  his  old 
age,  the  land  darkened  for  many  a  furlong  with  the  clus- 
tered roofs  of  the  western  metropolis.     For  the  silence  of 
the  wilderness,  he  heard  the  clang  and  turmoil  of  human 
labor,  the  din  of  congregated  thousands ;  and  where  the 
great  river  rolled  down  through  the   forest,   in  lonely 
grandeur,  he  saw  the  waters  lashed  into  foam  beneath 
the  prows  of  panting  steamboats,  flocking  to  the  broad 
levee.* 


*  Laclede,  the  founder  of  St.  Louis,  died  before  he  had  brought 
his  grand  fur-trading  enterprise  to  a  conclusion  ;  but  his  young 
assistant  Hved  to  realize  schemes  still  mora  bold  and  comprehen- 

81  vcfc  •  Q  n  /I  f /-  *  ■» 


4-  Wt\  *^w-%M~fmm 


and  vuya^cur,  from  the  fron- 


tier of  the  United  States  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  from  the 


ST.  ANGE  DE  BELLERIVE. 


435 


In  the  summer  of  1764,  the  military  commandant, 
Neyon,  had  abandoned  the  country  in  disgust,  and  gone 
down  to  New  Orleans,  followed  by  many  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, a  circumstance  already  mentioned.  St.  Ange  de 
Bellerive  remained  behind  to  succeed  him.  St.  Ange 
was  a  veteran  Canadian  officer,  the  same  who,  more  than 
forty  years  before,  had  escorted  Father  Charlevoix 
through  the  country,  and  who  is  spoken  of  with  high 
commendation  by  the  Jesuit  traveller  and  historian.  He 
took  command  of  about  forty  men,  the  remnant  of  the 
garrison  of  Fort  Chartres,  which,  remote  as  it  was,  was 
then  esteemed  one  of  the  best  constructed  military  works 
in  America.  Its  ramparts  of  stone,  garnished  with 
twenty  cannon,  scowled  across  the  encroaching  Missis- 
sippi, destined,  before  many  years,  to  ingulf  curtain  and 
bastion  in  its  ravenous  abyss. 

St.  Ange's  position  was  by  no  means  an  enviable  one. 
He  had  a  critical  part  to  play.  On  the  one  hand,  he  had 
been  advised  of  the  cession  to  the  English,  and  ordered 
to  yield  up  the  country  whenever  they  should  p,rrive  to 
claim  it.  On  the  other,  he  was  beset  by  embassies  from 
Pontiac,  from  the  Shawanoes,  and  from  the  Miamis,  and 
plagued  day  and  night  by  an  importunate  mob  of  Illinois 

British  Possessions  to  the  borders  of  New  Mexico,  the  name  of 
Pierre  Chouteau  is  familiar  as  liis  own.  I  visited  this  venerable 
man  in  the  spring  of  1846,  at  his  country-seat,  in  a  rural  spot 
surrounded  by  woods,  within  a  few  miles  of  St.  Louis.  The 
building,  in  the  picturesque  architecture  peculiar  to  the  French 
dwellings  of  the  Mississippi  Valley,  with  its  broad  eaves  and 
light  verandas,  and  the  surrounding  negro  houses,  filled  with 
gay  and  contented  inmates,  were  in  singular  harmony  with  the 
character  of  the  patriarchal  owner,  who  prided  himself  on  his 
fidelity  to  the  old  French  usages.  Though  in  extreme  old  age, 
he  still  retained  the  vivacity  of  his  nation.  His  memory,  es- 
pecially of  the  events  of  his  youth,  was  clear  and  vivid  ;  and  he 
delighted  to  look  back  to  the  farthest  extremity  of  the  long  vista 
of  his  life,  and  recall  the  acts  and  incidents  of  his  earliest  years. 
Of  Pontiao,  whom  he  had  often  seen,  he  had  a  clear  recollection  ; 
and  i  am  indebted  to  this  interesting  interview  lur  several  pax*- 
ticulars  regarding  the  chief  and  his  coadjutors. 


436 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Indians,  demanding  arms,  ammunition,  and  assistance 
against  the  common  enemy.  Perhaps,  in  his  secret  heart, 
St.  Ahge  would  have  rejoiced  to  see  the  scalps  of  all  the 
Englishmen  in  the  backwoods  fluttering  in  the  wind  over 
the  Illinois  wigwams ;  but  his  situation  forbade  him  to 
comply  with  the  solicitations  of  his  intrusive  petitioners, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  some  sense  of  honor  and 
humanity  enforced  the  dictates  of  prudence.  Accord- 
ingly, he  cajoled  them  with  flatteries  and  promises,  and 
from  time  to  time  distributed  a  few  presents  to  stay  their 
importunity,  still  praying  daily  that  the  English  might 
appear  and  relieve  him  from  his  uneasy  dilemma. 

While  Laclede  was  founding  St.  Louis,  while  the  dis- 
contented settlers  of  the  Illinois  were  deserting  their 
homes,  and  while  St.  Ange  was  laboring  to  pacify  his 
Indian  Neighbors,  all  the  tribes  from  the  Maumee  to  the 
Mississippi  were  in  a  turmoil  of  excitement.  Pontiac  was 
among  them,  furious  as  a  wild  beast  at  bay.  By  the 
double  campaign  of  1764,  his  best  hopes  had  been  crushed 
to  the  earth ;  but  he  stood  unshaken  amidst  the  ruin,  and 
still  struggled  with  desperate  energy  to  retrieve  his  broken 
cause.  On  the  side  of  the  northern  lakes,  the  movements 
of  Bradstreet  had  put  down  the  insurrection  of  the  tribes, 
and  wrested  back  the  military  posts  which  cunning  and 
treachery  had  placed  within  their  grasp.  In  the  south, 
Bouquet  had  forced  to  abject  submission  the  warlike 
Delawares  and  Shawanoes,  the  warriors  on  whose  courage 
and  obstinacy  Pontiac  had  grounded  his  strongest  con- 
fidence. On  every  hand  defeat  and  disaster  were  closing 
around  him.  One  sanctuary  al  xie  remained,  the  country 
of  the  Illinois.  Here  the  flag  of  France  still  floated  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  and  here  no  English  foot  had 
dared  to  penetrate.  He  resolved  to  invoke  all  his  re- 
sources, and  bend  all  his  energies  to  defend  this  last 
citadel. 

He  was  not  left  to  contend  unaided.  The  fur-trading 
French,  living  at  the  settlements  on  the  Mississippi,  scat- 
tered about  the  forts  of  Ouatanon,  Vincennes,  and  Miami, 


HIS  FRENCH  ALLIES. 


437 


or  domesticated  among  the  Indians  of  the  Rivers  Illinois 
and  Wabash,  dreaded  the  English  as  dangerous  com- 
petitors in  their  vocation,  and  were  eager  to  bar  them 
from  the  country.  They  lavished  abuse  and  calumny  on 
the  objects  of  their  jealousy,  and  spared  no  falsehood 
which  ingenious  malice  and  self-interest  could  suggest. 
They  gave  out  that  the  English  were  bent  on  the  ruin  of 
the  tribes,  and  to  that  end  were  stirring  them  up  to 
mutual  hostility.  They  insisted  that,  though  the  armies 
of  France  had  been  delayed  so  long,  they  were  never- 
theless on  their  way,  and  that  the  bayonets  of  the  white- 
coated  warriors  would  soon  glitter  among  the  forests  of 
the  Mississippi.  Forged  letters  were  sent  to  Pontiac, 
signed  by  the  King  of  France,  exhorting  him  to  stand  his 
ground  but  a  few  weeks  longer,  and  all  would  then  be 
well.  To  give  the  better  coloring  to  their  falsehoods, 
some  of  these  incendiaries  assumed  the  uniform  of  French 
officers,  and  palmed  themselves  off  upon  their  credulous 
auditors  as  ambassadors  from  the  king.  Many  of  the 
principal  traders  distributed  among  the  warriors  supplies 
of  arms  and  ammunition,  in  some  instances  given  gra- 
tuitously, and  in  others  sold  on  credit,  with  the  under- 
standing that  payment  should  be  made  from  the  plunder 
of  the  English. 

Now  that  the  insurrection  of  the  oast  was  quelled,  and 
the  Delawares  and  Shawanoes  beaten  into  submission,  it 
was  thought  that  the  English  would  lose  no  time  in  tak- 
ing full  possession  of  the  country,  which,  by  the  peace  of 
1763,  had  been  transferred  into  their  hands.  Two  prin- 
cipal routes  would  give  access  to  the  Illinois.  Troops 
might  advance  from  the  south,  up  the  great  natural  high- 
way of  the  Mississippi,  or  they  might  descend  from  the 
east  by  way  of  Fort  Pitt  and  the  Ohio.  In  either  case, 
to  meet  and  repel  them  was  the  determined  purpose  of 
Pontiac. 

When  we  last  took  leave  of  him,  he  was  on  the  River 
Maumee,  whither  he  had  retired  with  his  chosen  ad- 
herents, on  the  approach  of  Bradstreet's  army,  and.  where, 


438 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


by  successive  tidings,  he  learned  the  humiliation  of  his 
allies,  and  the  triumph  of  his  enemies.     Towards  the 
close  of  autumn,  he  left  his  encampment,  and,  followed 
by  four  hundred  warriors  journeyed  westward,  to  visit  in 
succession  the  different  tribes,  and  gain  their  cooperation 
in  his  plans  of  final  defence.     Crossing  over  to  the  Wa- 
bash, he  passed  from  village  to  village,  among  the  Kicka- 
poos,  the  Piankishaws,  and  the  three  tribes  of  the  Miami s, 
rousing  them  by  his  imperious  eloquence    and  breathing 
into  them  his  own  fierce  spirit  of  resistance.     I'henee,  ly 
rapid   marches   through   forests    and   over   prairies,   he 
reached  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  and  summoned  the 
four  tribes  of  the  Illinois  to  a  general  meet  aig.     lint  these 
degenerate  savages,  beaten  by  the  surrounding  tribes  for 
many  a  generation  past,  had  lost  their  warlike  spirit,  and, 
though  abundantly  noisy  and  boastful,  showed  no  zeal 
for  fight,  and  entered  with  no  zest  into  the  schemes  of 
the   Ottawa  war-chief.     Pontiac   had  his  ov.n   way   of 
dealing  with  such   spirits.     "If    ypu  hesitate,"  he    ex- 
claimed, frowning  on  the  cowering  assembly,  "  I  will  con- 
sume your  tribes  as  the  fire  consumes  the  dry  grass  on 
the  prairie."     The  doubts  of  the  Illinois  vanished  like  the 
mist,  and  with  marvellous  alacrity  they  declared  their 
concurrence  in  the  views  of  the  orator.     Having  secured 
these  allies,  such  as  they  were,  Pontiac  departed,  and 
hastened  to  Fort  Chartres.     St.  Ange,  so  long  tormented 
with  embassy  after  embassy,  and  mob  after  mob,  thought 
that  the  crowning  evil  was  come  at  last,  when  he  saw 
the  arch-demon  Pontiac  enter  at  the  gate,  with  four  bun- 
dred  warriors  at  his  back.    Arrived  at  the  council-house, 
Pontiac   addressed   the  commandant  in  a  tone   of  high 
courtesy :  "  Father,  we  have  long  wished  to  see  you,  to 
^shake  hands  with  you,  and,  vdiilst  smoking  the  calumet 
of  peace,  to  recall  the  battles  in  which  we  fought  together 
against  the  misguided  Indians  and  the  English  dogs.    I 
love  the  French,  and  I  have  come  hither  with  my  warriors 
to  avenge  their  wrongs."     Then  followed  a  demand  for 
arms,  ammunition,  and  troops,  to  act  in  concert  with  the 


REPULSE  OF  I.OFTUS. 


439 


Indian  warriors.  St.  Ange  was  forced  to  decline  render- 
ing the  expected  aid ;  but  he  sweetened  his  denial  with 
soothing  compliments,  and  added  a  few  gifts,  to  remove 
any  lingering  bitterness.  Pontiac  would  not  be  appeased. 
He  angrily  complained  of  such  lukewarm  friendship, 
where  he  had  looked  for  ready  sympathy  and  support. 
His  warriors  pitched  their  lodges  about  the  fort,  and 
threatening  symptoms  of  an  approaching  rupture  began 
to  alarm  the  French. 

In  the  mean  time,  Pontiac  had  caused  his  squaws  to 
construct  a  belt  of  wampum  of  extraordinary  size,  six  feet 
in  length,  and  four  inches  wide.  It  was  wrought  from 
end  to  end  with  the  symbols  of  the  various  tribes  and 
villages,  forty -seven  in  number,  still  leagued  together  in 
his  alliance.  He  consigned  it  to  an  embassy  of  chosen 
warriors,  directing  them  to  carry  it  down  the  Mississippi, 
displaying  it,  in  turn,  at  every  Indian  village  along  its 
banks,  and  exhorting  the  inhabitants,  in  his  name,  to 
watch  the  movements  of  the  English,  and  repel  any  at- 
tempt they  might  make  to  ascend  the  river.  This  done, 
they  were  to  repair  to  New  Orleans,  and  demand  from 
the  governor,  M.  D'Abbadie,  the  aid  which  St.  Ange  had 
refused.  The  bark  canoes  of  the  embassy  put  out  from 
the  shore,  and  whirled  down  the  current  like  floating 
leaves  in  autumn. 

Soon  after  their  departure,  tidings  came  to  Fort  Char- 
tres,  which  caused  a  joyous  excitement  among  the  Indians, 
and  relieved  the  French  garrison  from  any  danger  of  an 
immediate  rupture.  In  our  own  day,  the  vast  distance 
between  the  great  city  of  New  Orleans  and  the  populous 
state  of  Illinois  has  dwindled  into  insignificance  beneath 
the  magic  of  science;  but  at  the  date  of  this  history, 
three  or  four  months  were  often  consumed  in  the  upward 
passage,  and  the  settlers  of  the  lonely  forest  colony  were 
sometimes  cut  off  from  all  communication  with  the  world 
for  half  a  year  together.  The  above-mentioned  tidings, 
interesting  as  they  were,  had  occupied  no  less  time  "in 
their  passage.    Their  import  was  as  follows :— 


440 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Very  early  in  the  previous  spring,  an  English  oflacer, 
Major  Loftus,  having  arrived  at  New  Orleans  with  four 
hundred  regulars,  had  attempted  to  ascend  the  Mississippi, 
to  take  possession  of  Fort  Chartres  and  its  dependent 
posts.  His  troops  were  embarked  in  large  and  heavy 
boats.  Their  progress  was  slow,  and  they  liad  reached  a 
point  not  more  than  eighty  leagues  above  New  Orleans, 
when,  one  morning,  their  ears  were  greeted  with  the  crack 
of  rifles  from  the  thickets  of  the  western  shore ;  and  a 
soldier  in  the  foremost  boat  fell,  with  a  mortal  wound. 
The  troops,  in  dismay,  sheered  over  towards  the  eastern 
shore ;  but,  when  fairly  within  gunshot,  a  score  of  rifles 
obscured  the  forest  edge  with  smoke,  and  filled  the  near- 
est boat  with  dead  and  wounded  men.  On  this,  they 
steered  for  the  middle  of  the  river,  where  they  remained 
for  a  tinie,  exposed  to  a  dropping  fire  from  either  bank, 
too  distant  to  take  effect. 

The  river  was  high,  and  the  shores  so  flooded,  that 
nothing  but  an  Indian  could  hope  to  find  foothold  in  the 
miry  labyrinth.  Loftus  was  terrified ;  the  troops  were 
discouraged,  and  a  council  of  officers  determined  that  to 
advance  was  impossible.  Accordingly,  with  their  best 
despatch,  they  steered  back  for  New  Orleans,  where  they 
arrived  without  farther  accident,  and  where  the  French, 
in  great  glee  at  their  discomfiture,  spared  no  ridicule  at 
their  expense.  They  alleged,  and  with  much  appearance 
of  truth,  that  the  English  had  been  repulsed  by  no  more 
than  thirty  warriors.  Loftus  charged  D'Abbadie  with 
having  occasioned  his  disaster  by  stirring  up  the  Indians 
to  attack  him.  The  governor  called  Heaven  to  witness 
his  innocence ;  and,  in  truth,  there  is  not  the  smallest 
reason  to  believe  him  guilty  of  such  villany.  Loftus,  who 
had  not  yet  recovered  from  his  fears,  conceived  an  idea 
that  the  Indians  below  New  Orleans  were  preparing  an 
ambuscade  to  attack  him  on  his  way  back  to  his  station 
at  Pensacola ;  and  he  petitioned  D'Abbadie  to  interfere  in 
his  behalf.  The  latter,  with  an  ill-dissembled  sneer, 
offered  to  give  him  and  bis  troops  an  escort  of  French 


i 


THE  ENGLISH  ON  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


441 


soldiers  to  protect  them.  Loftus  rejected  the  humiliating 
proposal,  and  declared  that  he  only  wished  for  a  French 
interpreter,  to  confer  with  any  Indians  whom  he  might 
meet  by  the  way.  The  Interpreter  was  furnished,  and 
Loftus  returned  in  safety  to  Pensacola,  his  detachment 
not  a  little  reduced  by  the  few  whom  the  Indians  had 
shot,  and  by  numbers  who,  disgusted  by  his  overbearing 
treatment,  had  deserted  to  the  French. 

The  futile  attempt  of  Loftus  to  ascend  the  Mississippi 
was  followed,  a  few  months   after,  by  another  equally 
abortive.     Captain  Pittman  came  to  New  Orleans  with ' 
the  design  of  proceeding  to  the  Illinois,  but  was  deterred 
by  the  reports  which  reached  him  concerning  die  temper 
of  the  Indians.     The  latter,  elated  beyond  measure  by 
their  success  against  Loftus,  and  excited,  moreover,  by 
the  messages  and  war-belt  of  Pontiac,  were  in  a  state  of 
angry   commotion,  which   made  the  passage  too  immi- 
nently hazardous  to  be  attempted.     Pittman  bethought 
himself  of  assuming  the  disguise  of  a  Frenchman,  joining 
a  party  of  Creole  traders,  and  thus  reaching  his  destina- 
tion by  stealth ;  but  weighing  the  risk  of  detection,  he 
abandoned  this   design  also,   and   returned  to   Mobile. 
Between  the  Illinois  and  the  settlements  around  New 
Orleans,  the  Mississippi  extended  its  enormous  length 
through  solitudes  of  marsh  and  forest,  broken  here  and 
there  by  a  squalid  Indian  village,  or,  at  vast  intervals,  by 
one  or  two  military  posts  erected   by  the   French,  and 
forming  the  resting-places  of  the   voyager.     After  the 
failure  of  Pittman,  more  than  a  year  elapsed  before  an 
English  detachment  could  succeed  in  passing  this  great 
thoroughfare  of  the  wilderness,  and  running  the  gantlet 
of  the  savage  tribes  who  guarded  its  shores.     It  was  not 
till  the  second  of  December,  1765,  that  Major  Farmar,  at 
the  head  of  a  strong  body  of  troops,  arrived,  after  an 
uninterrupted  voyage,  at  Fort  Chartres,  where  the  flag  of 
his  country  had  already  supplanted  the  standard  of  France. 

To  return  to  our  immediate  theme.     The  ambassadors, 
whom  Pontiac  had  sent  from  Fort  Chartres  in  the  autumn 


III 


11!! 


442 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


of  1764,  faithfully  acquitted  themselves  of  their  trust. 
They  visited  the  Indian  villages  along  the  river  banks, 
kindling  the  thirst  for  blood  and  massacre  in  the  breasts 
of  the  inmates.  They  pushed  their  sanguinary  mission 
even  to  the  farthest  tribes  of  Southern  Louisiana,  to  whom 
the  great  name  of  Pontiac  had  long  been  known,  and  of 
late  made  familiar  by  repeated  messages  and  embassies.* 
This  portion  of  their  task  accomplished,  they  repaired  to 
New  Orleans,  and  demanded  an  audience  of  the  governor. 

New  Orleans  was  then  a  town  of  about  seven  thou- 
sand white  mhabitants,  guarded  from  the  river  floods  by 
a  levee  extending  for  fifty  miles  along  the  banks.  The 
small  brick  houses,  one  story  in  height,  were  arranged 
with  geometrical  symmetry,  like  the  s(iuares  of  a  chess- 
board. Each  house  had  its  yard  and  garden,  and  the 
town  was  enlivened  with  the  verdure  of  trees  and  grass. 
In  front,  a  public  square,  or  parade-ground,  opened  ui)on 
the  river,  enclosed  on  three  sides  by  the  dilapidated 
church  of  St.  Louis,  a  prison,  a  convent,  government 
buildings,  and  a  range  of  barracks.  The  place  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  defence  of  palisades  strong  enough  to  repel 
an  attack  of  Indians,  or  insurgent  slaves. 

When  Pontiac's  ambassadors  entered  New  Orleans, 
they  found  the  town  in  a  state  of  confusion.  It  had  long 
been  known  that  the  regions  east  of  the  Mississippi  had 
been  surrendered  to  England ;  a  cession  from  which,  how- 
ever. New  Orleans  and  its  suburbs  had  been  excluded  by 
a  special  provision.  But  it  was  only  Avithin  a  few  weeks 
that  the  dismayed  inhabitants  had  learned  that  their 
mother  country  had  transferred  her  remaining  American 
possessions  to  the  crown  of  Spain,  whose  government  and 
people  they   cordially   detested.     With  every  diay  they 


*  By  the  correspondence  between  the  French  officers  of  Uppor 
and  Lower  Louisiana,  it  appears  that  Pontiac's  messengers,  in 
several  instances,  had  arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  New  Orleans, 
whither  they  had  come,  partly  to  beg  for  aid  from  the  French, 
and  partly  to  urge  the  Indians  of  the  adjacent  country  to  bar 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  against  the  English. 


DEATH  OF  GOVERNOR  D'ABBADIE. 


443 


might  expect  the  arrival  of  a  Spanish  governor  and  garri- 
son. The  French  officials,  whose  hour  was  drawing  to  its 
close,  were  making  the  best  of  their  short-lived  authority 
by  every  species  of  corruption  and  peculation ;  and  the 
inhabitants  vvere  awaiting,  in  anger  and  repugnance,  the 
approaching  change;,  which  was  to  place  over  their  heads 
masters  whom  they  hated.  The  governor,  D'Abbadie,  an 
ardent  soldier  and  a  zealous  patriot,  was  so  deeply  cha- 
grined at  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  disgrace  of  his 
country,  that  his  feeble  health  gave  way,  and  he  betrayed 
all  the  symptoms  of  a  rapid  decline. 

Haggard  with  illness,  and  bowed  down  with  shame, 
the  dying  governor  received  the  Indian  envoys  in  the 
council-hall  of  the  province,  where  he  was  never  again  to 
assume  his  seat  of  office.  Besides  the  French  officials  in 
attendance,  several  English  officers,  who  chanced  to  be  in 
the  town,  had  been  invited  to  the  meeting,  with  the  view 
of  soothing  the  jealousy  witli  which  they  regarded  all 
intercourse  between  the  French  and  the  Indians.  A 
Shawanoe  chief,  the  orator  of  the  embassy,  displayed  the 
great  war-belt,  and  opened  the  council.  "These  red 
dogs,"  he  said,  alluding  to  the  color  of  the  British  uni- 
form, "  have  crowded  upon  us  more  and  more  ;  and  when 
we  ask  them  by  what  right  they  come,  they  tell  us  that 
you,  our  French  fathers,  have  given  them  our  lands.  We 
know  that  they  lie.  These  lands  are  neither  yours  nor 
theirs,  and  no  man  shall  give  or  sell  them  without  our 
consent.  Fathers,  we  have  always  been  your  faithful 
children,  and  we  now  have  come  to  ask  that  you  will  give 
us  guns,  powder,  and  lead,  to  aid  us  in  this  war." 

D'Abbadie  replied  in  a  feeble  voice,  endeavoring  to 
allay  their  vindictive  jealousy  of  the  English,  and  prom- 
ising to  give  them  all  that  should  be  necessary  to  supply 
their  immediate  wants.  The  council  then  adjourned 
until  the  following  day;  but,  in  the  mean  time,  the 
wasted  strength  of  the  governor  gave  way  beneath  a 
renewed  attack  of  his  disorder,  and  before  the  appointed 
hour  arrived,  he  had  breathed  his  last,  hurried  to  a  pre- 


444 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


mature  death  by  the  anguish  of  mortified  pride  and 
patriotJHm.  M.  Aubry,  hiw  HUccesHor,  prepHt;,!  in  h\n 
pla(!e,  and  nuHMvcd  tlio  savage  enibassv.  ri>f»  orator, 
after  the  solemn  eustom  of  Ills  people,  aa('rep*'.«»d  him  in 
a  speeeh  of  condoliMKu^  expressing  his  (*  .  ^^  gret  for 
D'Abbadie's  untimely  fate.*  A  chief  of  the  x..  wtiuis  then 
rose  to  speak,  with  a  seowling  brow,  and  wc  *•*  of  bitter- 
ness and  reproaiih.  "  Sinee  we  last  sat  on  cnese  seats, 
our  ears  have  heard  strange  words.  When  the  Einglish 
told  us  that  they  had  conquered  you,  we  always  thought 
that  they  lied ;  but  now  we  have  learntul  that  th(;y  si)oke 
the  truth.  We  have  learned  that  you,  whom  we  Iiave 
loved  and  served  so  well,  have  given  the  lancLs  that  we 
dwell  upon  to  your  enemies  and  ours.  We  have  learntul 
that  the  English  have  forbidden  you  to  send  traders  to 
our  villages  to  supply  our  wants,  and  tnat  you,  whom  w(^ 
thought  so  great  and  brave,  have  obeyed  their  commands 
like  women,  leaving  us  to  starve  and  die  in  misery.  We 
now  tell  you,  once  for  all,  that  our  lands  are  our  own ; 
and  we  tell  you,  moreover,  that  we  can  live  without  your 
aid,  and  hunt,  and  fish,  and  fight,  as  our  fathers  did  be- 
fore us.  All  that  we  ask  of  you  is  this,  that  you  give  us 
back  the  guns,  the  powder,  the  hatchets,  and  the  knives 
which  we  have  worn  out  in  fighting  your  battles.  As 
for  you,"  he  exclaimed,  turning  to  the  English  officers, 
who  were  present  as  on  the  previous  day, — "  as  for  you, 
our  hearts  burn  with  rage  when  we  think  of  the  ruin 
you  have  brought  on  us."  Aubry  returned  but  a  weak 
answer  to  the  cutting  attack  of  the  Indian  speaker.  He 
assured  the  ambassadors  that  the  French  still  retained 
their  former  love  for  the  Indians,  that  the  English  meant 
them  no  harm;  and  that,  as  all  the  world  were  now  at 


*  At  all  friendly  meetings  with  Indians,  it  was  customary  for 
the  latter,  when  the  other  party  had  sustained  any  signal  loss, 
to  commence  by  a  formal  speecli  of  condolence,  offering,  at  the 
same  time,  a  black  belt  of  wampum,  in  token  of  mourning. 
This  'nractice  ina^  be  uarticularly  observed  in  the  records  of  earlv 
councils  with  tlie  Iroquois. 


PONTIAC'S  EMBASSY  AT  NEW  ORLEANS.         445 

peaoe,  it  l)ehov(Ml  thorn  also  to  tiikw  hold  of  the  chain  of 
friondHhip.  A  few  [jresents  were  then  distributed,  l)iit 
with  no  apparent  effect.  Tlie  featu^cH  of  the  Indians 
still  retiuned  their  suUeii  scowl;  and  on  the  morrow, 
their  canoes  were  ascending  the  Mississippi  on  their 
homeward  voyage. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


RUm    OP    TUK    INDIAN    CAUSE. 

The  repulse  of  Loftus,  and  rumors  of  the  fierce  temper 
of  the  Indians  who  guarded  the  Mississippi,  convinced 
the  commander-in-chief  that  to  reach  the  Illinois  by  the 
southern  route  was  an  enterprise  of  no  easy  accomplish- 
ment. Yet,  at  the  same  time,  he  felt  tlie  strong  necessity 
of  a  speedy  military  occupation  of  the  country ;  since, 
while  thcfleur  de  lis  floated  over  a  single  garrison  in  the 
ceded  territory,  it  would  be  impossible  to  disabuse  the 
Indiana  of  the  phantom  hope  of  French  assistance,  to 
which  they  clung  with  infatuated  tenacity.  The  embers 
of  the  Indian  war  would  never  be  quenched  until  England 
had  enforced  all  her  claims  over  her  defeated  rival.  Gage 
determined  to  despatch  a  force  from  the  eastward,  by 
way  of  Fort  Pitt  and  the  Ohio  ;  a  route  now  laid  open  by 
the  late  success  of  Bouquet,  and  the  submission  of  the 
Delaware^  and  Shawanoes. 

To  prepare  a  way  for  the  passage  of  the  troops.  Sir 
William  Johnson's  deputy,  George  Oroghan,  was  ordered 
to  proceed  in  advance,  to  reason  with  the  Indians  as  far 
as  they  were  capable  of  reasoning,  to  soften  their  anti- 
pathy to  the  English,  to  expose  the  falsehood  of  the 
French,  and  to  distribute  presents  among  the  tribes  by 
way  of  propitiation.  The  mission  was  a  critical  one,  but 
Croghan  was  well  fitted  to  discharge  it.  He  had  been 
for  years  a  trader  among  the  western  tribes,  over  whom 
he  had  gained  much  influence  by  a  certain  vigor  of  char- 
acter, joined  to  a  wary  and  sagacious  policy,  concealed 
beneath  a  bluff  demeanor.  He  and  his  assistant,  Lieu- 
tenant Eraser,  with  the  men  who  were  to  attend  them, 
446 


EXPLOITS  OF  THE  BORDERERS. 


447 


set  out  for  Fort  Pitt,  in  February,  1765  ;  and  after  trav- 
ersing inhospitable  mountains,  and  valleys  clogged  with 
snow,  reached  their  destination  at  about  the  same  time 
that  Pontiac's  ambassadors  were  entering  New  Orleans, 
to  hold  their  council  with  the  French. 

A  few  days  later,  an  incident  occurred,  which  after- 
wards, through  the  carousals  of  many  a  winter  evening, 
supplied  an  absorbing  topic  of  anecdote  and  boast  to  the 
braggadocio  heroes  of  the  border.  A  train  of  pack  horses, 
bearing  the  gifts  which  Croghan  was  to  bestow  upon  the 
Indians,  followed  him  towards  Fort  Pitt,  a  few  days' 
journey  in  the  rear  of  his  party.  Under  the  same  escort 
came  several  companies  of  traders,  who,  believing  that 
the  long  suspended  commerce  with  the  Indians  was  about 
to  be  reopened,  were  hastening  to  Fort  Pitt  with  a  great 
quantity  of  goods,  ep^ger  to  throw  them  into  the  market, 
the  moment  the  prohibition  should  be  removed.  The 
Paxton  men,  and  their  kindred  spirits  of  the  border,  saw 
this  proceeding  with  sinister  eyes.  In  their  view,  the 
traders  were  about  to  make  a  barter  of  the  blood  of  the 
people ;  to  place  in  the  hands  of  murdering  savages  the 
means  of  renewing  the  devastation  to  which  the  reeking 
frontier  bore  frightful  witness.  Once  possessed  with  this 
idea,  they  troubled  themselves  with  no  more  inquiries ; 
and,  having  tried  remonstrances  in  vain,  they  adopted  a 
summary  mode  of  doing  themselves  justice.  At  the  head 
of  the  enterprise  was  a  man  whose  name  had  been  con- 
nected with  more  praiseworthy  exploits,  James  Smith, 
already  mentioned  as  leading  a  party  of  independent 
riflemen,  for  the  defence  of  the  borders,  during  the  bloody 
autumn  of  1763.  He  now  mustered  his  old  associates, 
made  them  resume  their  Indian  disguise,  and  led  them 
to  their  work  with  characteristic  energy  and  address. 

The  government  agents  and  triders  were  in  the  act  of 
passing  the  verge  of  the  frontiers.  Their  united  trains 
amounted  to  seventy  pack  horses,  carrying  goods  to  the 
value  of  more  than  fifteen  thousand  pounds.  Advancing 
deeper  among  the  mountains,  they  began  to  descend  the 


448 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


valley  at  the   foot  of   Sidling   Hill.     The   laden   horses 
plodded   knee-deep   in  snow.      The  mountains  tovvcu-ed 
above  the  wayfarers  in  gray  desolation;  and  the  leafless 
forest,   a  mighty  ^olian    harp,    howled    dreary    music 
to   the  wintl  of  March.      Suddenly,  from  behind  snow- 
beplastered  trunks,   and  shaggy  bushes  of  evergreen,  un- 
couth apparitions  started  into  view.     Wild  visages  pi'o- 
truded,  grotesquely   horrible  with  vermilion  and  od\n\ 
white  lead  and  soot;  stalwart  limbs  appeared,  encased  in 
buckskin ;  and  rusty  rifles  thrust  out  their  long  nuizzles. 
In  front,  and  flank,  and  all    around  them,  white  putt's  of 
smoke  and  sharp  reports  assailed  the  bewildered  senses 
of  the  travellers,  who  were  yet  more  confounded  by  tbe 
hum  of  bullets  ^hot  by  unerring  fingers  within  an  incli 
of  their  ears.     "  (ientlemen,"  demanded  the  traders,  in 
deprecatiing    accents,   «  what  would  you  have  us  do  ? " 
"  Unpack  your  horses,"  roared  a  voice  from  the  woods, 
"  pile  your  goods  in  the  road,  and  be  oft'."     The  traders 
knew  those  with  whom  they  had  to  deal.      Hastening  to 
obey  the  mandate,  they  departed  with  their  utmost  speed, 
happy  that   their  scalps  were   not    numbered  with  the 
booty.     The  spoilers  appropriated  to  themselves  such  of 
the  plunder  as  pleased  them,  made  a  bonfire  of  the  rest, 
and   we'nt  on   their    way   rejoicing.        The   discomfited 
traders   repaired   to   Fort   Loudon,  and  laid  their  com- 
plaints before  Captain  Grant,  the  commandant,  who,  hi- 
flamed  with  wrath  and  zealous  for  the  cause  of  justice,  de- 
spatched a  party  of  soldiei's,  seized  several  innocent  persons, 
and  lodged  them  in  the  guard-house.     In  high  dudgeon  at 
such  an  infraction  of  their  liberties,  the  boi  dtn  ors  sent  mes- 
sengers through  the  country,  calliniTj  upon  a*l  good  men  to 
rise  in  arms.      Three   hundred  obe/ed  the  summons,  and 
pitched  their  camp  on  a  hill  opposite  Fr>rt  Loudon ;  a  rare 
muster  of  desperadoes,  yet  observing  a  cei^ain  moderation 
in  their  wildest  acts,  and  never  at  a  lo"^;-^  for  a  plausible 
reason  to  justify  any  pranks  vhich  it  might  please  them 
to  exhibit.     By  some  means,  tlu  y  contvivcd  to  waylay 
and  capture  a  considerable  nun^ber  of  the  garrison,  on 


CONGRESS  AT  FORT  PITT. 


449 


which  the  commandant  condescended  to  send  them  a  flag 
of  truce,   and   offer  an  exchange   of   prisoners.      Their 
object  thus  accomplished,  and  their  imprisoned  comrades 
restored  to  them,  the  borderers  dispersed  for  the  present 
to  their  homes.     Soon  after,  however,  upon  the  occurrence 
of  some  fresh  difficulty,  the  connnandant,  afraid  or  unable 
to  apprehend  the  misdoers,  endeavored  to  deprive  them 
of  the   power  of  mischief  by   sending  soldiers  to   then- 
houses  and  carrying  off  their  rifles.     His  triumph  was 
short ;  for,  as  he  rode  out  one  aft';rnoon,  he  fell :  'to  an  am- 
buscade of  countrymen,  who,  uispensing  with  all  forms 
of  respect,  seized  the   incensed  officer,  and  detamed  him 
in  an  uncomfortable  captivity  until  the  rifles  were  re- 
stored    From  this  tim«^  forward,  ruptures  were  repeatedly 
occurring  between  the  troops  and  the  frontiersmen  ;  and 
the  Pennsylvania  border  retained  its  turbulent  character 
until  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolutionary  War.* 

The  plea  of  necessity,  by  which  the  border  robbers  en- 
deavored  to  excuse  the  plunder  of  the  caravan,  is  more 
plausible  than  valid,  since  the  traders,  with  their  goods 
would  not  have  been  allowed  to  leave  Fort  Pitt  until  all 
difficultips   with   the   Indians  had  been  fully  adjusted. 
This  act  of  lawless  violence  wrought  great  injury  to  Cro- 
ghan  and  his   '^lissioii ;  for  the  property  of  government 
had   shared    the   fate  of  that  belonging   to  the  traders, 
and  tho,  agency   laost  potent  to  gain  the  affections  ot 
an  Indian  had   been  completely   paralyzed   in  the    de- 
struction  of  the  presents.     Croghan  found  means,  how- 
ever, partiallv  t.  •  repair  his  loss  from  the  storehouse  of 
Fort  Pitt,  v,i    re  the  rigor  of  the  season  and  the  great 
depth  of  tne  snow  forced  him  to  remain  several  weeks. 

*The  account  of  the  seizure  of  the  Indian  goods  is  df>  ^'^d 
chiefly  froni  the  narrative  of  the  ringleader,  Smith,  published  m 
Drake's  Tragedies  of  the  Wilderness,  and  elsewhere.  The  cor- 
Sspond.rcf  of  Gage  and  Johnson  is  filled  with  allusions  to  this 
Tff  [ha  cTthe  subfeqrient  proceedings  of  the  freebooters.  Gage 
!^r^  no  invectives  igainst  what  he  calls  the  licentious  conduct 
of  tlm  frontier  people. 


^^ 


ii 


> 


450 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


This  cause  alone  would  have  served  to  detain  him  :  but 
he  was  yet  farther  retarded  by  the  necessity  of  holding  a 
meeting  with  the  Dehi wares  and  Shawanoes,  along  whose 
southern  borders  he  would  be  compelled  to  pass.  An 
important  object  of  the  proposed  meeting  was,  to  urge 
these  tribes  to  fulfil  the  promise  they  had  made  during 
the  previous  autumn  to  Colonel  Bouquet,  to  yield  up 
their  remaining  prisoners,  and  send  deputies  to  treat  of 
peace  with  Sir  William  Johnson ;  engagements  which, 
when  Croghan  arrived  at  the  fort,  were  as  yet  unfulfilled, 
though,  as  already  mentioned,  they  were  soon  after  com- 
plied with. 

Immediately  on  his  arrival,  he  had  despatched  mes- 
sengers inviting  the  chiefs  to  a  council ;  a  summons  which 
they  obeyed  with  their  usual  reluctance  and  delay,  drop- 
pnig   m,  iband   after  band,  with   such   tardiness  that  a 
month   was  consumed  before  a    sufficient  number    was 
assembled.     Croghan  then  addressed  them,  showing  the 
advantages  of  peace,  and  the  peril  which  they  would  bring 
on  their  own  heads  by  a  renewal  of  the  war,  and  urging 
them  to  stand  true  to  their  engagements,  and  send  their 
deputies  to  Johnson  as  soon  as  the  melting  of  the  snows 
should  leave   the    forest  pathways  open.      Several   re- 
plies, all  of  a  pacific  nature,  were  made  by  the  principal 
chiefs  ;  but  the  most  remarkable  personage  who  appeared 
at  the  council  was  the  Delaware  prophet  mentioned  in 
an  early  portion  of  the  narrative,  as  having  been  strongly 
instrumental  in  urging  the'tribes  to  war,  by  means  of  pre- 
tended  or  imaginary  revelations  from  the  Great  Spirit 
He  now  delivered  a  speech  by  no  means  remarkable  for 
eloquence,  yet  of  most  beneficial  consequence ;  for  he  in- 
timated that  the  Great  Spirit  had  not  orSy  revoked  his 
sanguinary    mandates,  but  had  commanued  the  Indians 
to  lay  down  the  hatchet,  and  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace. 
In  spite  of  this  auspicious   declaration,  in  spit«  of  the 
chastisement  and  humiliation  of  the  previous  autumn 
Croghan  was  privately  informed  that  a  large  party  amono^ 
the  Indians  still   remained  bnlimppri  hpfn-^o^n  +v.^:« Z 


ALTERED  CONDUCT  OT  THE  FRENCH. 


451 


and  their  fears,  eager  to  take  up  the  hatchet,  yet  dread- 
ing the  consequences  which  the  act  might  bring.  Under 
this  cloudy  aspect  of  affairs,  he  was  doubly  gratified  when 
a  prrty  of  Shawanoe  warriors  arrived,  bringing  with 
them  the  prisoners,  whom  they  had  promised  Colonel 
Bouquet  to  surrender;  and  this  faithful  adherence  to 
their  word,  contrary  alike  to  Croghan's  expectations  and 
to  the  prophecies  of  those  best  versed  in  Indian  character, 
made  it  apparent  V  hatever  might  be  the  sentiments 
of  the  turbulent  r  >  ;  them,  the  more  influential  por- 
tion were  determine    »n  a  pacific  attitude. 

These  councils,  and  the  previous  delays,  consumed  so 
much  time,  that  Croghan  became  fearful  that  the  tribes 
of  the  Illinois  might,  meanwhile,  commit  themselves  by 
some  rash  outbreak,  which  would  increase  the  difficulty 
of  reconciliation.  In  view  of  this  danger,  his  assistant. 
Lieutenant  Fraser,  a  young  man  more  bold  than  prudent, 
volunteered  to  go  forward  in  advance,  leaving  his  principal 
to  follow  when  he  had  settled  affairs  at  Fort  Pitt.  Cro- 
ghan  assented,  and  Fraser  departed  with  a  few  attendants. 
The  rigor  of  the  season  had  now  begun  to  relent,  and  the 
ice-locked  Ohio  was  flinging  off  its  wintry  fetters.  Em- 
barked in  a  birch  canoe,  and  aided  by  the  current,  Fraser 
floated  prosperously  downwards  for  a  thousand  miles,  and 
landed  safely  in  the  country  of  the  Illinois.  Here  he  met 
such  a  reception  as  he  might  have  expected,  very  similar 
to  that  which,  during  the  autumn  before,  Captain  Morris 
had  encountered  in  the  Miami  village.  In  short,  he  found 
himself  in  a  nest  of  hornets,  and  in  terror  for  his  life. 
Abandoning  the  purposes  of  his  mission,  he  fled  in  dis- 
guise down  the  Mississippi,  to  seek  refuge  among  the 
French  at  New  Orleans.* 

*  Extract  from  a  Letter— Fort  Pitt,  July  24,  (Pa.  Gaz.   Nos. 

1912,1913:)—  ^.  ^     I..    . 

"Fondiac  immediately  collected  all  the  Indians  under  ^is  m- 
fluence  to  the  Illinois,  and  ordered  the  French  commanding 
officer  there  to  deliver  up  these  Englishmen  [Fraser  and  his  party] 
to  him,  as  he  had  prepared  a  large  kettle  in  which  he  was  de- 


452 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


Had  Fraser's  rash  attemi)t  been  made  but  a  few  weeks 
earlier,  his  blood  would  doubtless  have  paid  the  forfeit ; 
but,  of  late,  a  change  had  taken  place  in  the  Illinois.     A 
rumor  was  abroad  that  an  English  detachment  was  at.  at 
to  descend  the  Ohio,  and  the  report  had  magical  effect. 
The  French  traders,  before  so  busy  with  their  falsehoods 
and  calumnies  against  the  English,  now  held  their  peace, 
dreading  the  impending  chastisement.     They  no  longer 
gave  arms  and  ammunition  to  the  Indians  ;  and  when  the 
latte  •  questioned  them  concerning  the  fabrication  of  a 
French  army  advancing  to  the  rescue,  they  treated  the 
story  as  unfounded,  or  sought  to  evade  the  subject.     St. 
Ange,  too,  and  the  other  officers  of  the  crown,  coniading 
in  the  arrival  of  the  English,  assumed  a  more  decisive 
tone,  refusing  to  give  the  Indians  presents,  telling  them 
that   thenceforward  they  must  trust  to  the  English  for 
supplies,  reproving  them  for  their  designs  against  the 
latter,  and  advising  them  to  remain  at  peace.     Indeed, 
the  Indians  were  in  no  condition  to  renew  the  war.     The 
supplies  obtained  from  the  French  had  been  squandered 
after  their  usual  childish  manner,  and  they  were  miserably 
in  want  of  food,  arms,  and  clothing.     It  is  true  that,  about 
the  time  of  Fraser's  arrival  a  most  opportune,  though 
inadequate,  supply  fell  into  their  hands,  in  the  following 
manner :  the  English  officers  in  the  south,  unable  to  send 
troops  up  the  Mississippi,  had  employed  a  Frenchman, 
whom  they  had  secured  in  their  interest,  to  ascend  the 
river  with  a  boat-load  of  goods,  which  he  was  directed  to 
distribute  among  the  Indians,  to  remove  their  prejudice 
against  the  English,  and  pave  the  way  to  reconciliation. 

termined  to  boil  them  and  all  other  Englishmen  that  came  that 

^ay Pondiac  told  the  French  that  he  had  been  informed 

of  Mr.  Croghan's  coming  that  way  to  treat  with  the  Indians,  and 
that  he  would  keep  his  kettle  boiling  over  a  large  fire  to  receive 
him  likewise." 

Pontiac  seems  soon  after  to  have  relented,  for  another  letter 
dated  New  Orleans,  June  19,  adds,  "  He  [Eraser]  says  Pondiac 
18  a  very  clever  fellow,  and  had  it  not  been  for  him,  he  would 

never  Hhva  crnt  aurnv^  aliiro  " 
--  — .  ..  J5_. J  .. 


PONTIAC-HIS  DESPERATE  POSITION. 


463 


Intelligence  of  this  movement  reached  the  ears  of  Pontiac, 
who,  though  much  pleased  with  the  approaching  supplies, 
had  no  mind  that  they  should  be  devoted  to  serve  the 
interests  of  his  enemies.  He  descended  to  the  river  bank 
with  a  body  of  his  warriors,  and  as  La  Garantais,  the 
Frenchman,  landed,  he  seized  him  and  his  men,  flogged 
them  severely,  robbed  them  of  their  cargo,  and  distributed 
the  goods  with  exemplary  impartiality  among  his  de- 
lighted followers.  The  supply  fell  far  short  of  their  ex- 
igencies ;  and  it  is  probable  also  that  the  cargo  consisted 
of   whiskey,  tobacco,  paint,  trinkets,  and  other  articles, 

useless  in  war. 

Notwithstanding  this  good  fortune,  Pontiac  daily  saw 
his  followers  dropping  off  from  their  allegiance  ;  for  even 
the  boldest  had  lost  heart.     Had  anything  been  wanting 
to  convince  him  of  the  hopelessness  of  his  cause,  the  re- 
port of  his  ambassadors   returning   from  New   Orleans 
would  have  banished  every  doubt.     No  record  of  his  inter- 
view with  them  remains  ;  but  it  is  easy  to  conceive  with 
what  chagrin  he  must  have  learned  that  the  officer  of 
France  first  iii  rank  in  all  America  had  refused  to  aid  him, 
and  urged  the  timid  counsels  of  peace.     The  vanity  of 
those  expectations,  which  had  been  the  mainspring  of  his 
enterprise,  now  rose  clear  and  palpable  before  him ;  and 
with  rage  and  bitterness,  he  saw  the  rotten  foundation  of 
his  hopes  sinking  into  dust,  and  the  whole  structure  of 
his  plot  crumbling  in  ruins  about  him. 

All  was  lost.  His  allies  were  falling  off,  his  followers 
deserting  him.  To  hold  out  longer  would  be  destruction, 
and  to  fly  was  scarcely  an  easier  ti-sk.  In  the  south  lay 
the  Cherokees,  hereditary  enemies  of  his  people.  In  the 
west  were  the  Osages  and  Missouries,  treacherous  and 
uncertain  friends,  and  the  fierce  and  jealous  Dahcotah. 
In  the  east  the  forests  would  soon  be  filled  with  English 
traders,  and  beset  with  English  troops,  while  in  the  north 
his  own  village  of  Detroit  lay  beneath  the  guns  of  the 
victorious  garrison.  He  might,  indeed,  have  ^ound  a  par- 
tial refuge  in  the  remoter  wilderness  of  the  upr>er  lakes ; 


454 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


but  those  dreary  wastes  would  have  doomed  him  to  a  life 
of  unambitious  exile.  His  resolution  was  taken.  He 
determined  to  accept  the  peace  which  he  knew  would  be 
proffered,  to  smoke  the  calumet  with  his  triumphant 
enemies,  and  patiently  await  his  hour  of  vengeance 

The  conferences  at  Fort  Pitt  concluded,  Croghan  left 
that  place  on  the  fifteenth  of  May,  and  embarked  on  the 
Ohio   accompanied  by  several  Delaware  and  Shawanoe 
deputies,  whom  he  had  persuaded  those  newly-reconciled 
tribes  to  send  with  him,  for  the  furtherance  of  his  mis- 
sion    At  the  mouth  of  the  Scioto,  he  was  met  by  a  band 
of  Shawanoe  warriors,  who,  in  compliance  with  a  message 
previously  sent  to  them,  delivered  into  his  hands  seven 
mtnguing  Frenchmen,  who  for  some  time  past  had  lived 
m  their  villages.     Thence  he  pursued  his  voyage  smoothly 
and  prosperously,  until  on  the  eighth  of  June,  he  reached 
a  spot  a  little  below  the  mouth  of  the  Wabash.     Here  he 
landed  with  his  party  ;  when  suddenly  the  hideous  war- 
whoop,  the  explosion  of  musketry,  and  the  whistling  of 
arrows  greeted  him  from  the  covert  of  the  neighboring 
thickets.     His  men  fell  thick  about  him.     Three  Indians 
and  two  white  men  were  shot  dead  on  the  spot ;  most  of 
the  remainder  were  wounded ;  and  on  the  next  instant 
the  survivors  found  themselves  prisoners  in  the  hands  of 
eighty  yelling  Kickapoos,  who  plundered  them  of  all  thev 
had.     No  sooner,  however,  was  their  prey  fairly  within 
their  clutches,  than   the   cowardly  assailants   began  to 
apologize   or  what  they  had  done,  saying  it  was  all  a  mis- 
take,  and  that  the  French  had  set  them  on  by  telling  them 
that  the  Indians  who  accompanied  Croghan  were  Chero- 
kees,  their  mortal  enemies ;  excuses  utterly  without  foun- 
dation, for  the  Kickapoos  had  dogged  the  party  for  several 
days,  and  perfectly  understood  its  character.* 
*  A  few  days  before,  a  boy  belonging  to  Croghan's  nartv  hpri 

that  he  had  been  seized  by  the  Kickapoo  warriors,  and  wis  still 
prisoner  among  them  at  the  time  of  the  attack  The?  mu  " 
have  learned  from  him  the  true  character  of  Croghan  and  hi 

r^r\m■r\ary^r\rya  TlyTCI     /-t r-»  ■»" ^'6  ixc*j.i    clUU   Ills 


CROGHAN  AT  OUATANON. 


455 


It  is  superfluous  to  inquire  into  the  causes  of  this  attack. 
No  man  practically  familiar  with  Indian  character  need 
be  told  the  impossilDility  of  foreseeing  to  what  strange  acts 
the  wayward  impulses  of  this  murder-loving  race  may 
prompt  them.  Unstable  as  water,  capricious  as  the 
winds,  they  seem  in  some  of  their  moods  like  ungoverned 
children  fired  with  the  instincts  of  devils.  In  the  present 
case,  they  knew  that  they  hated  the  English — knew  that 
they  wanted  scalps ;  and  thinking  nothing  of  the  con- 
sequences, they  seized  the  first  opportunity  to  gratify  their 
rabid  longing.  This  done,  they  thought  it  bcst  to  avert 
any  probable  effects  of  their  misconduct  by  such  false- 
hoods as  might  suggest  themselves  to  their  invention. 

Still  apologizing  for  what  they  had  done,  but  by  no 
means  suffering  their  prisoners  to  escape,  they  proceeded 
up  the  Wabash,  to  the  little  French  fort  and  settlement 
of  Vincennes,  where,  to  his  great  joy,  Croghan  found 
among  the  assembled  Indians  some  of  his  former  friends 
and  acquaintance.  They  received  him  kindly,  and  sharply 
rebuked  the  Kickapoos,  who,  on  their  part,  seemed  much 
ashamed  and  crestfallen.  From  Vincennes  the  English 
were  conducted,  in  a  sort  of  honorable  captivity,  up  the 
river  to  Ouatanon,  where  they  arrived  on  the  twenty- 
third,  fifteen  days  after  the  attack,  and  where  Croghan 
was  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  great  number  of  his  former 
Indian  friends,  who  received  him,  to  appearance  at  least, 
with  much  cordiality.  He  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  fort, 
where  there  was  at  this  time  no  garrison,  a  mob  of  French 
traders  and  Indians  being  the  only  tenants  of  the  place. 
For  several  days,  his  time  was  engrossed  with  receiving 
deputation  after  deputation  from  the  various  tribes  and 
sub-tribes  of  the  neighborhood,  smoking  pipes  of  peace, 
making  and  hearing  speeches,  and  shaking  hands  with 
greasy  warriors,  who,  one  and  all,  were  strong  in  their 
professions  of  good  will,  promising  not  only  to  regard  the 
English  as  their  friends,  but  to  aid  them,  if  necessary,  in 
taking  possession  of  the  Illinois. 


While  these  amicabk 


40G 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


i'Ik^ 


miscreant  Frenchman  came  from  the  Mississippi  with  a 
message  from  a  chief  of  that  region,  urging  the  Indians  of 
Ouatanon  to  burn  the  Englishman  alive.    Of  this  proposal 
the  Indians  signified  their  strong  disapprobation,  and  as- 
sured  the   startled  envoy   that  they    would    stand  his 
friends— professions  the  sincerity  of  which,  happily  for 
him,  was  confirmed  by  the  strong  guaranty  of  their  fears. 
The  next  arrival  was  that  of  Maisonvillc,  a  messenger 
from   St.   Ange,   requesting   Croghan   to  come   to  Fort 
Chartres,  to  adjust  affairs  in  that  quarter.     The  i  n vitation 
was  in  accordance  with  Croghan's  designs,  and  he  left  the 
fort  on  the  following  day,  attended  by  Maisonvillc,  and  a 
concourse  of  the  Ouatanon  Indians,  who,  far  *rom  regard- 
ing  him  as  their  prisoner  were  now  studious  to  show  him 
every  mark  of  respect.     He  had  advanced  but  a  short 
distance  into  the  forest  when  he  met  Pontiac  himself,  who 
was   on  his  way  to  Ouatanon,  followed  by  a  numerous 
train  of  chiefs  and  warriors.     He  gave  his  hand  to  the 
English  envoy,  and  both  parties  returned  together  to  the 
fort.     Its  narrow  precincts  were  now  crowded  with  In- 
dians, a  perilous  multitude,  dark,  malignant,  inscrutable  ; 
and  it  behoved  the  Englishman  to  be  wary  in  his  dealings 
with  them,  since  a  breath  might  kindle  afresh  the  wild- 
fire in  their  hearts. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  chiefs  and  warriors,  Pontiac  offered 
the  calumet  and  belt  of  peace,  and  professed  his  concur- 
rence with  the  cliiefs  of  Ouatanon  in  the  friendly  senti- 
ments which  they  expressed  towards  the  English.  The 
French,  he  added,  had  deceived  him,  telling  him  and  his 
people  that  the  English  meant  to  enslave  the  Indians  of 
the  Illinois,  and  turn  lease  upon  them  their  enemies  the 
Cherokees.  It  was  this  which  drove  him  to  arms ;  and 
now  that  he  knew  the  story  to  be  false,  he  would  no 
longer  stand  in  the  path  of  the  English.  Yet  they  must 
not  imagine  that,  in  taking  possession  of  the  French  forts, 
they  gained  any  right  to  the  country;  for  the  French 
had  never  bought  the  land,  and  lived  upon  it  by  sufferance 
only. 


PONTIAC  OFFERS  PEACE. 


457 


As  this  meeting  with  Pontiac  and  the  Illinois  chiefs 
made  it  needless  for  Croghan  to  advance  farther  on  his 
W(3stern  journey,  he  now  bent  his  footsteps  towards 
Detroit,  and,  followed  by  Pontiac  and  many  of  the  prin- 
cipal chiefs,  crossed  over  to  Fort  Miami,  and  thence  de- 
scended the  Maumee,  holding  conferences  at  the  several 
villages  which  he  passed  on  his  way.  On  the  seventeenth 
of  August,  he  reached  Detroit,  where  he  found  a  great 
gathering  of  Indians,  Ottawas,  Pottawattamies,  and  Ojib- 
was ;  some  encamped  about  the  fort,  and  others  along  the 
banks  of  the  River  Rouge.  They  obeyed  his  sunnnons  to 
a  meeting  with  ready  alacrity,  partly  from  a  desire  to  win 
the  good  graces  of  a  potent  and  victorious  enemy,  and 
partly  from  the  importunate  craving  for  licjuor  and  pres- 
ents, which  never  slumbers  in  an  Indian  breast.  Numer- 
ous meetings  were  held,  and  the  old  council-hall  where 
Pontiac  had  essayed  his  scheme  of  abortive  treachery  was 
now  crowded  with  repentant  warriors,  anxious,  by  every 
from  of  submission,  to  appease  the  conqueror.  Their  ill 
success,  their  fears  of  chastisement,  and  the  miseries  they 
had  endured  from  the  long  suspension  of  the  fur-trade, 
had  banished  from  their  minds  every  thought  of  hostility. 
They  were  glad,  they  said,  that  the  dark  clouds  were  now 
dispersing,  and  the  sunshine  of  peace  once  more  return- 
ing ;  and  since  all  the  nations  to  the  sunrising  had  taken 
their  great  father  the  King  of  England  by  the  hand,  they 
also  wished  to  do  the  same.  They  now  saw  clearly  that 
the  French  were  indeed  conquered  ;  and  thenceforth  they 
would  listen  no  more  to  the  whistling  of  evil  birds,  but 
lay  down  the  war-hatchet,  and  sit  quiet  on  their  mats. 
Among  those  who  appeared  to  make  or  renew  their  sub- 
mission was  the  Grand  Sauteur,  the  sanguinary  chief  who 
had  led  the  massacre  at  Mieliillimackiuac,  and  who,  a  few 
years  after,  expiated  his  evil  deeds  by  a  bloody  death. 
He  now  pretended  great  regret  for  what  he  had  done. 
"  We  red  people,"  he  said,  «  are  a  very  jealous  and  foolish 
people ;  but,  father,  there  are  some  among  the  white  men 
worse  than  we  are,  and  they  have  told  us  lies,  and  deceived 


•J>. 


.^^, 

^V.  Vv 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


V.A 


1.0 


2.8 


I.I 


|W    — - 


2.2 
20 

1.8 


L25  lilU    11.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


,\ 


A 


,v 


M 


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;\ 


\ 


vo 


23  WIST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTKR.N.Y.  MStO 

(716)  872-4503 


4^ 


4' 


458 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


us.  Therefore  we  hope  you  will  take  pity  on  our  women 
and  children,  and  grant  us  peace."  A  band  of  Pottawat- 
tamies  from  St.  Joseph's  were  also  present,  and,  after  ex- 
cusing themselves  for  their  past  conduct  by  the  stale  plea 
of  the  uncontrollable  temper  of  their  young  men.  their 
orator  proceeded  as  follows  : — 

**  We  are  no  more  than  wild  creatures  to  you,  fathers, 
in  understanding ;  therefore  we  request  to  forgive  the 
past  follies  of  our  young  people,  and  receive  us  for  your 
children.  Since  your  have  thrown  down  our  former 
father  on  his  back,  we  have  been  v/andering  in  the  dark, 
like  blind  people.  Now  you  have  dispersed  all  this  dark- 
ness, which  hung  over  the  heads  of  the  several  tribes,  and 
have  accepted  them  for  your  children,  we  hope  you  will 
let  us  partake  with  them  the  light,  that  our  women  and 
children  may  enjoy  peace.  We  beg  you  to  forget  all  that 
is  past.  By  this  belt  we  remove  all  evil  thoughts  from 
your  hearts. 

"  Fathers,  when  we  formerly  came  to  visit  our  fathers 
the  French,  they  always  sent  us  home  joyful ;  and  we 
hope  you,  fathers,  will  have  pity  on  our  women  and  young 
men,  who  are  in  great  want  of  necessaries,  and  i^ot  let  us 
go  home  to  our  towns  ashamed." 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  August,  Croghan  held  a 
meeting  with  the  Ottawas,  and  the  other  tribes  of  Detroit 
and  Sandusky ;  when,  adopting  their  own  figurative 
language,  he  addressed  them  in  the  following  speech,  in 
which,  as  often  happened  wheii  white  men  borrowed  the 
tongue  of  the  forest  orator,  he  lavished  a  more  unsparing 
profusion  of  imagery  than  the  Indians  themselves : — 

«  Children,  we  are  very  glad  to  see  so  many  of  you  here 
present  at  your  ancient  council-fire,  which  has  been  neg- 
lected for  some  time  past ;  since  then,  high  winds  have 
blown,  and  raised  heavy  clouds  over  your  country.  I 
now,  by  this  belt,  rekindle  your  ancient  fire,  and  throw 
dry  wood  upon  it,  that  the  blaze  may  ascend  to  heaven, 
so  that  all  nations  may  see  it,  and  know  that  you  live  in 
peace  and  tranquillity  with  your  fathers  the  English, 


CONFERENCES  Al  DETROIT. 


459 


«  By  this  belt  I  disperse  all  the  black  clouds  from  over 
your  heads,  that  the  sun  may  shine  clear  on  your  women 
and  children,  that  those  unborn  may  enjoy  the  blessings 
of  this  general  peace,  now  so  happily  settled  between 
your  fathers  the  English  and  you,  and  all  yoiu*  younger 
brethren  to  the  sunsetting. 

"Children,  by  this  belt  I  gather  up  all  the  bones  of 
your  deceased  friends,  and  bury  them  deep  in  the  ground, 
that  the  buds  and  sweet  flowers  of  the  earth  may  grow 
over  them,  that  we  may  not  see  them  any  more. 

«  Children,  with  this  belt  I  take  the  hatchet  out  of  your 
hands,  and  pluck  up  a  large  tree,  and  bury  it  deep,  so  that 
it  may  never  be  found  any  more ;  and  I  plant  the  tree  of 
peace,  which  all  our  children  may  sit  under,  and  smoke 
in  peace  with  their  fathers. 

*^  Children,  we  have  made  a  road  from  the  sunrising  to 
the  sunsetting.  I  desire  that  you  will  preserve  that  road 
good  and  pleasant  to  travel  upon,  that  we  may  all  share 
the  blessings  of  this  happy  union." 

On  the  following  day,  Pontiac  spoke  in  behalf  of  the 
several  nations  assembled  at  the  council. 

«  Father,  we  have  all  smoked  out  of  this  pipe  of  peace. 
It  is  your  children's  pipe  ;  and  as  the  war  is  all  over,  and 
the  Great  Spirit  and  Giver  of  Light,  who  has  made  the 
earth  and  everything  therein,  has  brought  us  all  together 
this  day  for  our  mutual  good,  I  declare  to  all  nations 
'  lat  I  have  settled  my  peace  with  you  before  I  came 
here,  and  now  delivt  my  pipe  to  be  sent  to  Sir  William 
Johnson,  that  he  may  know  I  have  made  peace,  and  taken 
the  King  of  England  for  my  father,  in  presence  of  all  the 
nations  now  assembled ;  and  whenever  any  of  those  na- 
tions go  to  visit  him,  they  may  smoke  out  of  it  with  him 
in  peace.  Fathers,  we  are  obliged  to  you  for  lighting  up 
our  old  council-fire  for  us,  and  desiring  us  to  return  to 
it ;  but  we  are  now  settled  on  the  Miami  River,  not  far 
from  hence:  whenever  you  want  us,  you  will  find  us 
there  " 

"Our  Deonle."  he  added,  "love  linnnr  nnH  if  w»  Hwolf 


460 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


near  you  in  our  old  village  of  Detroit,  our  warriors 
would  be  always  drunk,  and  quarrels  would  arise  between 
us  and  you."  Drunkenness  was,  in  truth,  the  bane  of 
the  whole  unhappy  race ;  but  Pontiac,  too  thoroughly  an 
Indian  in  his  virtues  and  his  vices  to  be  free  from  its 
destructive  taint,  concluded  his  speech  with  the  common 
termination  of  un  Indian  harangue,  and  desired  that  the 
rum  barrel  might  be  opened,  and  his  thirsty  warriors 
allowed  to  drink.  v 

At  the  end  of  September,  having  brought  these  pro- 
tracted conferences  t  :>  a  close,  Croghan  left  Detroit,  and 
departed  for  Niagara,  whence,  after  a  short  delay,  he 
passed  eastward,  to  report  the  results  of  his  mission  to 
the  commander-in-chief.  But  before  leaving  the  Indian 
country,  he  exacted  from  Pontiac  a  promise  that  in  the 
spring  he  would  descend  to  Oswego,  and,  in  behalf  of  the 
tribes  lately  banded  in  his  league,  conclude  a  i  :eaty  of 
peace  and  amity  with  Sir  William  Johnson.* 

Croghan's  efforts  had  been  attended  with  signal  suc- 
cess. The  tribes  of  the  west,  of  late  bristling  in  defiance, 
and  hot  for  fight,  had  craved  forgiveness,  and  proffered 
the  peaceful  calumet.  The  war  was  over ;  the  last  fiick- 
erings  of  that  wide  conflagration  had  died  away  ;  but  the 
embers  still  glowed  beneath  the  a^hes,  and  fuel  and  a 
breath  alone  were  wanting  to  rekindle  those  desolating 
fires. 

In  the  mean  time,  a  hundred  Highlanders  of  the  42d 
Regiment,  those  veterans  wiiose  battle-cry  had  echoed 
over  the  bloodiest  fields  of  America,  had  left  Fort  Pitt 

*  In  a  letter  to  Gage,  without  a  date,  but  sent  in  the  same  en- 
closure as  his  journal,  Croghan  gives  his  impression  of  Pontiac 
in  the  following  words  : — 

"  Pontiac  is  a  shrewd,  sensible  Indian,  of  few  words,  and  com- 
mands more  respect  among  his  own  nation  than  any  Indian  I 
ever  saw  could  do  among  his  own  tribe.  He,  and  all  the  princi- 
pal men  of  those  nations,  seem  at  present  to  be  convinced  that 
the  French  had  a  view  of  interest  in  stirring  up  the  late  differ- 
ences between  his  majesty's  subject's  and  them,  and  call  it  a 
beaver  war." 


THE  ENGLISH  AT  THE  ILLINOIS. 


461 


under  command  of  Captain  Sterling,  and,  descending  the 
Ohio,  undeterred  by  the  rigor  of  the  season,  arrived  at 
Fort  Chartres  just  as  the  snows  of  early  winter  began  to 
whiten  the  naked  forests.*  The  flag  of  France  descended 
from  the  rampart ;  and  with  the  stern  courtesies  of  war, 
St.  Ange  yielded  up  his  post,  the  citadel  of  the  Illinois,  to 
its  new  masters.  In  that  act  was  consummated  the 
double  triumph  of  British  power  in  America.  England 
had  crushed  her  hereditary  foe ;  and  France,  in  her  fall, 
had  left  to  irretrievable  ruin  the  savage  tribes  to  whom 
her  policy  and  self-interest  had  lent  a  transient  support. 

*  MS.  Gage  Papers.  M.  Nicollet,  in  speaking  of  the  arrival  of 
the  British  troops,  says,  "  At  this  news  Pontiac  raved."  This  is 
a  mistake.  Pontiac's  reconciliation  had  already  taken  place,  and 
he  had  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  resistance. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


DEATH  OF  PONTIAC. 

The  winter  passed  quietly  away.  Already  the  Indians 
began  t,o  feel  the  blessings  of  returning  peace  in  the 
partial  reopening  of  the  fur-trade ;  and  the  famine  and 
nakedness,  the  misery  and  death,  which  through  the  pre- 
vious season  had  been  rife  in  their  encjimpments,  were 
exchanged  for  comparati  ve  comfort  and  abuiidance.  With 
many  precautions,  and  in  meagre  allowances,  the  traders 
had  been  permitted  to  throw  their  goods  into  the  Indian 
market,  and  the  starving  hunters  were  no  kmger  left,  as 
many  of  them  had  been,  to  gain  precarious  sustenance 
by  the  bow,  the  arrow,  and  the  lance— the  half-forgotten 
weapons  of  their  fathers.  Some  troubles  arose  along  the 
frontiers  of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia.  The  reckless 
borderers,  in  contempt  of  common  humanity  and  pru- 
dence, murdered  several  straggling  Indians,  and  enraged 
others  by  abuse  and  insult ;  but  these  outrages  could  not 
obliterate  the  remembrance  of  recent  chastisement,  and 
for  the  present,  at  least,  the  injured  warriors  forbore  to 
draw  doVn  the  fresh  vengeance  of  their  destroyers. 

Spring  returned,  and  Pontiac  remembered  the  promise 
he  had  made  to  visit  Sir  William  Johnson  at  Oswego. 
He  left  his  encampment  on  the  Maumee,  accompanied  by 
his  chiefs,  and  by  an  Englishman  named  Crawford,  a  man 
of  vigor  and  resolution,  who  had  been  appointed,  by  the 
superintendent,  to  the  troublesome  office  of  attending  the 
Indian  deputation,  and  supplying  their  wants. 

We  may  well  imagine  with  what  bitterness  of  mood 
the  defeated  war-ohief  urged  his  canoe  along  the  margin 
462 


PONTTAC  AT  OSWEGO. 


403 


of  Liikfi  Erics  f"i<l  gnwd  upon  the  hoiizon-hoiiiKUid  vvjitcrM, 
and  tlie  lofty  shoreH,  j^rcen  with  primeval  verduro.  Littlo 
cionid  ho  liavudminiod,  and  little  could  the  wisest  of  that 
day  have  imagined,  that,  within  the  space  of  a  single 
human  life,  that  lonely  lake  would  be  studded  with  the 
sails  of  commerce;  that  cities  and  villages  would  rise 
upon  the  ruins  of  the  forest ;  and  that  the  poor  memen- 
toes of  his  lost  race— the  wampum  beads,  the  rusty  toma- 
hawk, and  the  arrowhead  of  stone,  turned  up  by  the 
ploughshare— would  become  the  wonder  of  school-boys, 
and  the  prized  relics  of  the  antiquary's  cabinet.  Yet  it 
needed  no  prophetic  eye  to  foresee  that,  sooner  or  later, 
the  doom  must  come.  The  star  of  his  people's  destiny  was 
fading  from  the  sky,  and,  to  a  mind  like  his,  the  black 
and  withering  future  must  have  stood  revealed  in  all  its 
desolation. 

The  bircheo  flotilla  gained  the  outlet  of  Lake  Erie,  and, 
shooting  downwards  with  the  stream,  landed  beneath  the 
palisades  of  Fort  Schlosser.  The  chiefs  passed  the  port- 
age, and,  once  more  embarking,  pushed  out  upon  Lake 
Ontario.  Hoon  their  goal  was  reached,  and  t'e  cannon 
boomed  hollow  ssilutation  from  the  batteries  of  Oswego. 

Here  they  found  Sir  William  Johnson  waiting  to  re- 
ceive them,  attended  by  the  chief  sachems  of  the  Iroquois, 
whom  he  had  invited  to  the  spot,  that  their  presence 
might  give  additional  weight  and  solemnity  to  the  meet- 
ing. As  there  was  no  building  large  enough  to  receive 
so  numerous  a  concourse,  a  canopy  of  green  boughs  was 
erected  to  shade  the  assembly  from  the  sun ;  and  thither, 
on  the  twenty-third  of  July,  repaired  the  chiefs  and  war- 
riors of  the  several  nations.  Here  stood  the  tall  figure  of 
Sir  William  Jolmson,  surrounded  by  civil  and  military 
officers,  clerks,  and  interpreters,  while  before  him  reclined 
the  painted  sachems  of  the  Iroquois,  and  the  great 
Ottawa  war-chief,  with  his  dejected  followers. 

Johnson  opened  the  meeting  with  the  usual  formalities, 
presenting  his  auditors  with  a  belt  of  wampum  to  wipe 
the  tears  from  their  eyes,  with  another  to  cover  the  bones 


404 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


of  their  relatives,  anothei  to  open  their  ears  that  they 
niiglit  hear,  and  another  to  clear  their  throats  that  they 
might  speak  with  ease.  Then,  amid  solenni  silence, 
Pontiac's  great  peace-pipe  was  lighted  and  passed  round 
the  assembly,  each  man  present  inhaling  a  whiff  of  the 
sacred  smoke.  These  tedious  forms,  together  with  a  few 
speeches  of  compliment,  consumed  the  whole  morning ; 
for  this  savage  people,  on  whose  supposed  simplicity 
poets  and  rhetoricians  have  lavished  their  praises,  may 
challenge  the  world  to  outmatch  their  bigoted  adherence 
to  usage  and  ceremonial. 

On  the  following  day,  the  council  began  in  earnest,  and 
Sir  William  Johnson  addressed  Pontiac  and  his  attendant 
chiefs. 

"  Children,  I  bid  you  heartily  welcome  to  this  place ; 
and  I  trust  that  the  Great  Spirit  will  permit  us  often  to 
meet  together  in  friendship,  for  I  have  uqw  opened  the 
door  and  cleared  the  road,  that  all  nations  may  come 
hither  from  the  sunsetting.  This  belt  of  wampum  con- 
firms my  words. 

«  Children,  it  gave  me  much  pleasure  to  find  that  you 
who  are  present  behaved  so  well  last  year,  and  treated  in 
so  friendly  a  manner  Mr.  Croghan,  one  of  my  deputies, 
and  that  you  expressed  such  concern  for  the  bad  behavior 
of  those,  who,  in  order  to  obstruct  the  good  work  of  peace, 
assaulted  and  wounded  him,  and  killed  some  of  his  party, 
both  whites  and  Indians ;  a  thing  before  unknown,  and 
contrary  to  the  laws  and  customs  of  all  nations.  This 
would  have  drawn  down  our  strongest  resentment  upon 
those  who  were  guilty  of  so  heinous  a  crime,  were  it  not 
for  the  great  lenity  and  kindness  of  your  English  father, 
who  does  not  delight  in  punishing  those  who  repent 
sincerely  of  their  faults. 

«  Children,  I  have  now,  with  the  approbation  of  General 
Gage,  (your  father's  chief  warrior  in  this  country,)  invited 
you  here  in  order  to  confirm  and  strengthen  your  proceed- 
ings with  Mr.  Croghan  last  year.  I  hope  that  you  will 
remember  all  that  then  passed,  and  I  desire  that  you  will 


^^•\ 


SPEECH  OF  SIR  WILLIAM  JOHNSON. 


466 


often  repeat  it  to  your  young  people,  and  keep  it  fresh  in 
your  minds. 

"  Children,  you  begin  already  to  see  the  fruits  of  peace, 
from  the  number  of  traders  and  plenty  of  goods  at  all  the 
garrisoned  posts  ;  and  our  enjoying  the  peaceable  posses- 
sion of  the  Illinois  will  be  found  of  great  advantage  to  the 
Indians  in  that  country.  You  likewise  see  that  proper 
officers,  men  of  honor  and  probity,  are  appointed  to  reside 
at  the  posts,  to  prevent  abuses  in  trade,  to  hear  your  com- 
plaints, and  to  lay  before  me  such  of  them  as  they  cannot 
redress.*  Interpreters  are  likewise  sent  for  the  assistance 
of  each  of  them ;  and  smiths  are  sent  to  the  posts  to  re- 
pair your  arms  and  implements.  All  this,  which  is  at- 
tended with  a  great  expense,  is  now  done  by  the  great 
king,  your  father,  as  a  proof  of  his  regard  ;  so  that,  cast- 
ing from  you  all  jealousy  and  apprehension,  you  should 
now  strive  with  each  other  who  should  show  the  most 
gratitude  to  this  best  of  princes.  I  do  now,  therefore, 
confirm  the  assurances  which  I  give  you  of  his  majesty's 
good  will,  and  do  insist  on  your  casting  away  all  evil 
thoughts,  and  shutting  your  ears  against  all  flying  idle 
reports  of  bad  people." 

The  fest  of  Johnson's  speech  was  occupied  in  explain- 
ing  to  his  hearers  the  new  arrangements  for  the  regulation 
of  the  fur-trade  ;  in  exhorting  them  to  forbear  from  re- 
taliating the  injuries  they  might  receive  from  reckless 
white  men,  who  would  meet  with  due  punishment  from 
their  own  countrymen ;  and  in  urging  them  to  deliver  up 
to  justice  those  of  their  people  who  might  be  guilty  cr 
crimes  against  the  English.  «  Children,"  he  concluded, « I 
now,  by  this  belt,  turn  your  eyes  to  the  sunrising,  where 

*  The  lords  of  trade  had  recently  adopted  a  new  plan  for  the 
management  of  Indian  affairs,  the  principal  feature  of  which 
was  the  confinement  of  the  traders  to  the  military  posts,  where 
they  would  conduct  their  traffic  under  the  eye  of  proper  officers, 
instead  of  ranging  at  will,  without  supervision  or  control,  among 
the  Indian  villages.  It  was  found  extremely  difficult  to  enforce 
this  regulation. 
30 


4t)0 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OP  PONTIAC. 


you  will  always  find  me  your  sincere  friend.  From  me 
you  will  always  hear  what  is  true  and  good  ;  and  I  charge 
you  never  more  to  listen  to  those  evil  birds,  who  come 
with  lying  tongues,  to  lead  you  astray,  and  to  make  you 
break  the  solemn  engagements  which  you  have  entered 
.  into  in  presence  of  the  Great  Spirit,  with  the  king  your 
father  and  the  English  people,  lie  strong,  then,  and  keep 
last  hold  of.  the  chain  of  friendship,  that  your  children 
followmg  your  example,  may  live  happy  and  prosperous 

Pontiac  made  a  brief  reply,  and  promised  to  return  on 
the  morrow  an  answer  in  full.  The  meeting  then  broke 
up. 

The  council  of  the  next  day  was  opened  by  the  Wyandot 
chief,  Teata,  in  a  short  and  formal  address ;  at  the  con- 
clusion of  which  Pontiac  himself  arose,  and  addressed  the 
superintehdent  in  the  following  words  :— 

«  Father,  we  thank  the  Great  Spirit  for  giving  us  so 
fine  a  day  to  meet  upon  such  great  affairs.  I  speak  in  the 
name  of  all  the  nations  to  the  westward,  of  whom  I  am 
the  master.  It  is  the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit  that  we 
should  meet  here  to-day;  and  before  him  I  now  take  you 
by  the  hand.  I  call  him  to  witness  that  I  speak  from  my 
heart ;  for  since  I  took  Colonel  Croghan  by  the  hand  last 
year,  I  have  never  let  go  my  hold,  for  I  see  that  the  Great 
Spirit  will  have  us  friends. 

«  Father,  when  our  great  father  of  France  was  In  this 
country,  I  held  him  fast  ])y  ^the  hand.    Now  that  he  is  gone 
I  take  you,  my  English  father,  by  the  hand,  in  the  name 
of  all  the  nations,  and  promise  to  keep  this  covenant  as 
long  as  I  shall  live." 

Here  he  delivered  a  large  belt  of  wampum. 
"Father,  when  you  address  me,  it  is  the  same  as  if  you 
addressed  aU  the  nations  of  the  west.  Father,  this  belt  is 
to  cover  and  strengthen  our  chain  of  friendship,  and  to 
show  you  that,  if  any  nation  shall  lift  the  hatchet  against 
our  English  brethren,  we  shall  be  the  first  to  feel  it  and  " 
resent  it." 


PONTIAC'S  REPLY  TO  JOHNSON. 


467 


rom  me 
I  charge 
10  come, 
iike  you 
entered 
ig  your 
Liid  keep 
hildren, 
)sperous 

turn  on 
1  broke 

Wyandot 
he  con- 
ised  the 

?  us  so 
k  in  the 
1  I  am 
liat  we 
tke  you 
L*om  my 
nd  last 
e  Great 

in  this 
s  gone, 
3  name 
ant  as 


if  you 

belt  is 

and  to 

igainst 

it  and 


Pontiac  next  took  up  in  succession  the  various  points 
touched  upon  in  the  speech  of  the  superintendent,  express- 
tig  in  all  things  a  full  compliance  with  his  wishes.  The 
succeeding  days  of  the  conference  were  occupied  with 
matters  of  detail  relating  chiefly  to  the  fur-trade,  all  of 
which  were  adjusted  to  the  apparent  satisfaction  of  the 
Indians,  who,  on  their  part,  made  reiterated  professions  of 
friendship.  Pontiac  promised  to  recall  the  war-belts 
which  had  been  sent  to  the  north  and  west,  though,  as  he 
alleged,  many  of  them  had  proceeded  from  the  Senecas, 
and  not  from  him,  adding  that,  when  all  were  gathered 
together,  they  would  be  more  than  a  man  could  carry. 
The  Iroquois  sachems  then  addressed  the  western  nations, 
exhorting  them  to  stand  true  to  their  engagements,  and 
hold  fast  the  chain  of  friendship ;  and  the  councils  closed 
on  the  thirty.flrst,  with  a  bountiful  distribution  of  presents 
to  Pontiac  and  his  followers. 

Thus  ended  this  memorable  meeting,  in  which  Pontipx; 
sealed  his  submission  to  the  English,  and  renounced  for- 
ever the  bold  design  by  which  he  had  trusted  to  avert  or 
retard  the  ruin  of  his  race.  His  hope  of  seeing  the  empire 
of  France  restored  in  America  was  scattered  to  the  winds, 
and  with  it  vanished  every  rational  scheme  of  resistance 
to  English  encroachment.  Nothing  now  remained  but  to 
stand  an  idle  spectator,  while,  in  the  north  and  in  the 
south,  the  tide  of  British  power  rolled  westward  in  re- 
sistless might ;  while  the  fragments  of  the  rival  empire, 
which  he  would  fain  have  set  up  as  a  barrier  against  the 
flood,  lay  scattered  a  miserable  wreck;  and  while  the 
remnant  of  his  people  melted  away  or  fled  for  refuge  to 
remoter  deserts.  For  them,  the  prospects  of  the  future 
were  as  clear  as  they  were  calamitous.  Destruction  or 
civilization— between  these  laj  their  choice,  and  few  who 
knew  them  could  doubt  which  alternative  they  would 
embrace. 

Pontiac,  his  canoe  laden  with  the  gifts  of  his  enemy, 
steered  homeward  for  the  Maumee  ;  and  in  this  vicinity 
he  spent  the  following  winter,  pitching  his  lodge  in  the 


468 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


forest  with  his  wives  and  ciiiidren,  and  hunting  like  an 
ordinary   warrior.     Witii   the   su'jceeding   spring,  1767, 
fresh  inurmurings  of  discontent  iirose  among  tlie  Indian 
tribes,  from  the  hikes  to  the  Potomac,  the  first  precursors 
of  the  disorders  which,  a  few  years  hiter,  ripened  into  a 
brief  but  bloody  war  along  the  borders  of  Virginia.     These 
threatening  symptoms  might  easily   be   traced   to  their 
source.    The  incorrigible    frontiersmen    had  again   let 
loose  their  nmrdering  propensities ;  and  a  multitude  of 
squatters  had  built  their  cabins  on  Indian  hmds  beyond 
the  limits  of  Pennsylvania,  adding  insult  to  aggression, 
and  sparing  neither  oaths,  curses,  nor  any  form  of  abuse 
and  maltreatment  against  the  rightful  owi.ers  of  the  soil. 
The  new  regalations  of  the  fur-trade  couli^   not  prevent 
disorders  among  the  reckless  men  engaged   in  it.     This 
was  par|;icularly  the  case  in  the  region  of  the  Illinois, 
where  the  evil  was  aggravated  by  the  renewed  intrigues 
of  the  French,  and  especially  of  those  who  had  fled  from 
the  English  side  of  the  Mississippi,  and  made  their  abode 
around  the  new  settlement  of  St.  Louis.    It  is  difficult  to 
say  how  far  Pontiac  was  involved  in  the  agitation.     It  is 
certain  that  somF  c*  the  English  traders  regarded  him 
with  jealousy  and  fear,  as  prime  mover  of  the  whole,  and 
eagerly  watched  an  opportunity  to  destroy  him. 

The  discontent  among  the  tribes  did  not  diminish  with 
the  lapse  of  time ;  yet  for  many  months  we  can  discern 
no  trace  of  Pontiac.  Records  and  traditions  are  silent 
concerning  him.  It  is  not  until  April,  1769,  that  he  ap- 
pears  once  more  distinctly  on  the  scene.*  At  about  that 
time  he  came  to  the  Illinois,  with  what  design  does  not 

*  Carver  says  that  Pontiac  was  killed  in  1767.  This  may  possi- 
bly be  a  mere  printer's  error.  In  the  Maryland  Gazette,  and  also 
in  the  Pennsylvania  Gazette,  were  published  during  the  month 
of  August,  1769,  several  letters  from  the  Indian  country,  in  which 
Pontiac  IS  mentioned  as  having  been  killed  during  the  preceding 
April  M.  Chouteau  states  that,  to  the  best  of  his  recollection 
the  chief  was  killed  in  1768  ;  but  oral  testimony  is  of  little  weight 
in  regard  to  dates.    The  evidence  of  the  Gazettes  appears  con- 


CAHOKU. 


?  like  an 
ig,  1767, 
e  Indian 
recursors 
)d  into  a 
.     These 

to  their 
Lgain  let 
titude  of 
I  beyond 
gression, 
:)f  abuse 

the  soil. 

prevent 
t.     This 

Illinois, 
ntrigues 
led  from 
ir  abode 
fficult  to 
n.  It  is 
led  him 
Lole,  and 

ish  with 
discern 
e  silent 
t  he  ap- 
jiit  that 
oes  not 

lay  possi- 
and  also 
9  month 
in  which 
receding 
ilection, 
3  weight 
iars  con- 


439 


appear,  through  his  movements  excited  much  uneasiness 
among  the  few  English  in  that  quarter.     Soon  after  his 
arrival,  he  repaired  to  St.  Louis,  to  visit  his  former  ac- 
quaintance, St.  Ange,  who  was  then  in  command  at  that 
post,  having  offered  his  servrices  to  the  Spaniards  after 
the  cession  of  Louisiana.    After  leaving  the  fort,  Pontiao 
proceeded  to  the  house  of  which  young  Pierre  Chouteau 
was  an  inmate ;  and  to  tlie   last  days  of  his  protracted 
life,  the  latter  could  vividly  recall  the  circumstjinces  of 
the  interview.     The  savage  chief  was  arrayed  in  the  full 
uniform  of  a  French  officer,  which  had  been  present»3d  to 
him  a^  a  special  mark  of  respect  and  favor  by  the  Marquis 
of  Montcalm,  towards  the  clo-^^e  of  the  French  war,  and 
which  Pontiac  never  had  the  bad  taste  to  wear,  except  on 
occasions  when  he  wished  to  appear  with  unusual  dignity. 
St.  Ange,  Chouteau,  and  the  other  principal  inhabitants 
of  the  infant  settlement,  whom  he  visited  in  turn,  all  re- 
ceived him  with  cordial  welcome,  and  did  their  best  to 
entertain  him  and  his  attendant  ciiiefs.     He  remained  at 
St.  Louis  for  two  or  three  days,  when,  hearing-  that,  a  large 
number  of  Indians  A\ere  assembled  at  Cahokia, on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  river,  and  that  some  drinking  bout  or 
other  social  gathering  was  in  progress,  he  told  St.  Ange 
that  he  would  cross  over  to  see  what  was  going  forward. 
St.  Ange  tired  to  dijsuade  him  and  urged  the  risk   to 
which  he  would  expose  himself ;  but  Pontiac  persisted, 
boasting  that  he  was  a  match  for  the  English,  and  h. ..  ao 
fear  for  his  life.     He  entered  a  canoe  with  some  of  his 
followers,  and  Chouteau  never  saw  him  again. 

He  who,  at  the  present  day,  crosses  from  the  city  of 
St.  Louis  to  the  opposite  shore  of  the  Mississippi,  and 
passes  southward  through  a  forest  festooned  with  grape- 
vines, and  fragrant  with  the  scent  of  flowers,  will  soon 
emerge  upon  the  ancient  hamlet  of  Cahokia.  To  one 
fresh  from  the  busy  suburbs  of  the  American  city,  the 
small  French  houses,  scattered  in  picturesque  disorder, 
the  light-hearted,  thriftless  look  of  thpir  inmates,  and  the 

woods  Whicb  frurm    flno    T-»r,olro.^^,i.-.rI   -*    fi--    ^:-j-, 


il 


470 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


like   the   remnants  of  an    earlier    and  simpler    world 
Strange  changes  have  passed  around  that  spot.     Forests 
have  fallen,  cities  have  sprung  up,  and  the  lonely  wilder- 
ness is  thronged  with  human  life.  .  Nature    herself  has 
taken  part  in  the  general  transformation,  and  the  Missis- 
sippi has  made  a  fearful  inroad,  robbing  from  the  luckless 
Creoles  a  mile  of  rich  meadow  and  woodland.     Yet,  in  the 
midst  of  ail,  this  relic  of  the  lost  empire  of  France  has 
preserved  its  essential  features  through  the  lapse   of  a 
century,  and  offers  at  this  day  an  aspect  not  widely  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  met  the  eye  of  Pontiac,  when  he 
and  his  chiefs  landed  on  its  shore. 

The  place  was  full  of  Illinois  Indians ;  such  a  scene  as 
m  our  own  time  may  often  be  met  with  in  some  squalid 
settlement  of  the   border,  where   the   vagabond  guests, 
bedizened  with  dirty  finery,  tie  their  small  horses  in  rows 
along  the  fences,  and  stroll  idly  among  the  houses,  or 
lounge  about  the  dram-shops.     A  chief  so  renowned  as 
Pontiac  could  not  remain  long  among  the  friendly  Creoles 
of  Cahokia  without  being  summoned  to  a  feast;  and  at 
such  primitive  entertainment  the  whiskey  bottle  would 
not  fail  to  play  its  part.     This  was  in .  truth  the  case. 
Pontiac  drank  deeply,  and,  when  the  carousal  was  over 
strode  down  the  village  street  to  the  adjacent  woods, 
where  he  wps  heard  to  sing  the  medicine  songs,  in  whose 
magic  power  he  trusted  as  the  warrant  of  success  in  all 
his  undertakings. 

An  English  trader,  named  Williamson,  was  then  in  the 

village.    He  had  looked  on  the   movements  of  Pontiac 

with  a  jealousy  probably  not  diminished  by  the  visit  of 

the  chief  to  the  French  at  St.  Louis ;  and  he  now  resolved 

not  to  lose  so  favorable  an  opportunity  to  despatch  him. 

With  this  view,  he  gained  the  ear  of  a.  strolling  Indian 

belonging  to  the  Kaskaskia  tribe  of  the  Illinois,  bribed 

him  with  a  barrel  of  liquor,  and  promised  him  a  farther 

reward  if  he  would  kill  the  chief.     The  bargain  was 

quickly   made.     When  Pontiac   entered   the  forest,  the 

assassin  stole  close  upon  his  track,  and,  watching  his  mo- 


DEATH  OF  PONTIAC. 


471 


ir    world 
Forests 
Y  wilder- 
rself  has 
e  Missis- 
luckless 
et,  in  the 
ance  has 
ase   of  a 
dely  dif- 
when  he 

scene  as 
!  squalid 
i  guests, 

in  rows 
)uses,  or 
tvned  as 

Creoles 

and  at 
J  would 
le  case, 
as  over, 

woods, 
1  whose 
3s  in  all 

1  in  the 
Pontiac 
visit  of 
esolved 
ill  him. 
Indian 
bribed 
farther 
in  was 
st,  the 
lis  mo- 


ment, glided  behind  him,  and  buried  a  tomahawk  in  his 
brain. 

The  dead  body  was  soon  discovered,  and  startled  cries 
and  wild  bowlings  announced  the  event.    The  word  was 
caught  up  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  the  place  resounded 
with  infernal  yells:    The  warriors  snatched  their  weapons 
The  Illinois  took  part  with  their  guilty  countryman,  and 
the  few  followers  of  Pontiac,  driven  from  the  village,  fled 
to  spread  the   tidings  and  call  the   nations  to  revenge 
Meanwhile  the  mu.^ored  chief  lay  on  the  spot  where  he 
had  fallen,  until  St.  Ange,  mindful  of  former  friendship 
sent  to  claim  the  body,  and  buried  it  with  warlike  honors' 
near  his  fort  of  St.  Louis.*  ' 

Thus  basely  perished  this  champion  of  a  ruined  race. 

*  Carver,  Travels,  166,  says  that  Pontiac  was  stabbed  at  a  pub- 
lic council  m  the  Illinois,  by  "a  faithful  Indian  who  was  either 
commissioned  by  one  of  the  English  governors,  or  instigated  by 
the  love  he  bore  the  English  nation."  This  account  is  without 
sufliGient  confirmation.  Carver,  who  did  not  visit  the  Illinois 
must  have  drawn  his  information  from  hearsay.  The  open  man- 
ner of  deahng  with  his  victim,  which  he  ascribes  to  the  assassin 
IS  wholly  repugnant  to  Indian  character  and  principles  ;  while 
the  gross  charge,  thrown  out  at  random  against  an  English  gover- 
nor, might  of  itself  cast  discredit  on  the  story. 

I  have  followed  the  account  which  I  received  from  M    Pierre 
Chouteau,  and  from  M.  P.  L.  Cerre,  another  old  inhabitant  of 
the  Illinois,  whose  father  was  well  acquainted  with  Pontiac 
Ihe  same  account  may  be  found,  concisely  staled,  in  Nicollet,  p! 
81.    M.  Nicollet  states  that  he  dferived  his  information  both  from 
^houteau  and  from  the  no  less  respectable  authority  of  the 
aged  Pierre  Menard  of  Kaskaskia.    The  notices  of  Pontiac's 
death  m  the  provincial  journals  of  the  day,  to  a  certain  extent, 
confirm  this  story.    We  gatlier  from  them,  that  he  was  killed  at 
the  Illinois,  by  one  or  more  Kaskaskia  Indians,  during  a  drunken 
frolic,  and  m  consequence  of  his  hostility  to  the  English.     One 
letter,  however,  states  on  hearsay  that  he  was  killed  near  Fort 
Chartres,  and  Gouin's  traditional  account  seems  to  support  the 
statement.     On  this  point,  I  have  followed  the  distinct  and  cir- 
cumstantial narrative  of  Chouteau,  supported  as  it  is  by  Cerre. 
M.  Chouteau's  recollections,  as  already  mentioned,  are  in  general 
remarkable  for  their  singularly  close  accordance  with  contempo- 
rarjr  documents,  *^ 


472 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  PONTIAC. 


But  could  his  shade  have  revisited  the  scene  of  murder 
his  savage  spirit  would  have  exulted  in  the  vengeance 
which  overwhelmed  the  abetters  of  the  crime.     Whole 
tribes  were  rooted  out  to  expiate  it.     Chiefs  and  sachems, 
whose  vems  had  thrilled  with  his  eloquence,  young  war- 
riors,  whose  aspiring  hearts  had  caught  the  inspiration  of 
his  greatness,  mustered  to  revenge  his  fate,  and  from  the 
north  and  the  east,  their  united  bands  descended  on  the 
villages  of  the  Illinois.    Tradition  has  but  faintly  pre- 
served the  memory  of  the  event ;  and  its  only  annalists 
men  who  held  the  intestine  feuds  of  the  savage  tribes  in 
no  more  account  than  the  quarrels  of  panthers  or  wildcats 
have  left  but  a  meagre  record.     Yet  enough  remains  to 
tell  us  that  over  the  grave  of  Pontiac   more  blood  was 
poured  out  in   atonement  than  flowed  from   the  heca- 
tombs of  slaughtered  heroes  on  the  corpse  of  Patroclus  • 
and  the' remnant  of  the  Illinois  who  survived  the  carnagj 
remained  forever  after  sunk  in  utter  insignificance.* 

Neither  mound  nor  tablet  marked  the  burial-place  of 
Pontiac.  For  a  mausoleum,  a  city  has  risen  above  the 
forest  hero ;  and  the  race  whom  he  hated  with  such  burn- 
ing rancor  trample  with  unceasing  footsteps  over  his  for- 
gotten grave. 

*  "  This  murder,  which  roused  the  vengeance  of  all  the  Indian 
tribes  friendly  to  Pontiac,  brought  about  the  successive  wars,  and 
almost  total  extermination,  of  the  Illinois  nation*"— Nicollet  82 

"  The  Kaskaskias,  Peorias,  Cahokias,  and  lUoneseare  nearly  all 
destroyed  by  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  for  killing  in  cool  blood,  and  in 
time  of  peace,  the  Sacs'  chief,  Pontiac."— ilfass.  Hist.  Coll  Sec- 
ond  Series,  II.  8. 

The  above  extract  exhibits  the  usual  confusion  of  Indian  names 
the  Kaskaskias,  Peorias,  and  Cahokias  being  component  tribes  of 
the  Illonese  or  Illinois  nation.  Pontiac  is  called  a  chief  of  the 
bacs.  This,  with  similar  mistakes,  may  easily  have  arisen  from 
the  fact  that  he  was  accustomed  to  assume  authority  over  the 
warriors  of  any  tribe  with  whom  he  chanced  to  be  in  contact 


THE  END, 


'  murder, 
engeance 
Whole 
sachems, 
ng  war- 
ration  of 
from  the 
d  on  the 
itly  pre- 
nnalists, 
tribes  in 
tvildcats, 
mains  to 
Dod  was 
le  heea- 
troclus ; 
carnage 
e.* 

place  of 
lOve  the 
ill  burn- 
liis  for- 


e  Indian 
/Sirs,  and 
ollet,  82. 
early  all 
1,  and  in 
oil.  Sec- 

i  names, 
tribes  of 
3f  of  the 
en  from 
over  the 
itact. 


